I am not an NFL fan nor am I a sports enthusiast. But I like stalking certain types of human beings.
For 15 years, I occasionally stalked Prince William, until he married Kate Middleton. Prince William was the embodiment of a childhood fantasy - becoming a princess and living happily every after. Reading his mum's biography discouraged me though. Along with Prince William were Jose Rizal, Mateo G. (before he became famous), Josh Groban, and many others.Two years ago, I have been a Demi Lovato fanatic and still is even after her fall from grace. She was able to soar up, like a broken phoenix anyway. Last year, I discovered Joel Houston and Hillsong United.
And through him, I learned who Tim Tebow is. I don't care about NFL as I have said. I do not even know what it means, honest. National Football League? (fingers crossed). But, a young man who is into Jesus, is intelligent (no brain damage yet?, oh yes, I have heard the football=brain damage joke in movies) and has a great body too is fascinating and entertaining. Makes you want to go dig deeper. Why?
My reasoning is simple. I want to believe that God makes beautiful people not just from the inside but the outside too. I want to prove to myself that beauty is not only skin deep. I want to believe that persons in that kind of limelight are not shallow ponds but deepwells of wisdom too.
We will see won't we? For one so young (he's 24 right), he is prone to all sorts of beautiful experiences and temptations that may or may not rock his spiritual foundation.
Well, the crap above is from the point of view of the good girl. The bad girl in me wants to be fascinated, titillated, and shocked by the possibility of corruption. Oh well, wicked me.
If he is indeed not a phony but a true blue whatever he wants to present, good for him. If not, he will be just one of the many disappointments I have uncovered along the way. I can always go back to Joel Houston. I have not yet uncovered any dirty secrets online about him and I have been watching for 4 or 5 months now.
Demi Lovato has disappointed me in a way but she has earned my respect. She has tried to live a life in this broken world, a life without the pretensions of a goody-two-shoes image but a decent one anyway.
But these guys, we'll see.
Showing posts with label It's a Grrr Thing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It's a Grrr Thing. Show all posts
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Saturday, December 31, 2011
2011-2012 Collision
I have always had a definite fascination for New Year's Eve since I was young. It meant more to me than Christmas Eve or even my birthday.
But, while lying in bed 30 minutes after the clock struck 12, and a little dizzy from drinking three glasses of red wine (can you get drunk on that stuff?), I kept remembering one New Years Eve celebration that went awry...well one or two.
The first one happened when I was in grade school. I remember lying awake all morning of that New Year, listening to the silence of the house...a stillness I did not appreciate at that time. I remember promising that I will never spend a New Year in that kind of solitary silence- with tears as consolation. That was the one time I can specifically remember that our family did not welcome the New Year with its usual celebration. Something happened but I was too young to understand.
Then, I remember another New Year celebration I spent listening to My Chemical Romance The Black Parade while swilling Carlo Rossi. That wine was not chilled and all the bubbles went to my head really, really fast. It was more a funeral party than a New Year's Celebration and my sibling and I spent it listening and replaying The Black Parade.
Then, my fascination for New Year Celebrations ended. Waiting for calls from loved ones when you can have them around you and rushing around from one house to the next makes occasions such as this one rather meaningless...fruitless.
How do I feel right now? I want to drink another glass of that wine. I think I should get something stronger (but I really hate the taste and smell of hard liquor). So now, here I am, listening to The Black Parade again while making promises that sometime in the near future, I will not be subjecting myself into charades like this one.
But, while lying in bed 30 minutes after the clock struck 12, and a little dizzy from drinking three glasses of red wine (can you get drunk on that stuff?), I kept remembering one New Years Eve celebration that went awry...well one or two.
The first one happened when I was in grade school. I remember lying awake all morning of that New Year, listening to the silence of the house...a stillness I did not appreciate at that time. I remember promising that I will never spend a New Year in that kind of solitary silence- with tears as consolation. That was the one time I can specifically remember that our family did not welcome the New Year with its usual celebration. Something happened but I was too young to understand.
Then, I remember another New Year celebration I spent listening to My Chemical Romance The Black Parade while swilling Carlo Rossi. That wine was not chilled and all the bubbles went to my head really, really fast. It was more a funeral party than a New Year's Celebration and my sibling and I spent it listening and replaying The Black Parade.
Then, my fascination for New Year Celebrations ended. Waiting for calls from loved ones when you can have them around you and rushing around from one house to the next makes occasions such as this one rather meaningless...fruitless.
How do I feel right now? I want to drink another glass of that wine. I think I should get something stronger (but I really hate the taste and smell of hard liquor). So now, here I am, listening to The Black Parade again while making promises that sometime in the near future, I will not be subjecting myself into charades like this one.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
The Secret to Happiness
It was during a most unexpected place and time that I learned a significant tenet about life. This truth happened to be so simple that I have completely disregarded it. Until that day….
We were in the Conference Hall of the Mayor's Office, waiting for the members of the City Literacy Coordinating Council to arrive. As members of the CLCC Secretariat, we attend the meetings of the council to facilitate, record, note down, present and do other functions expected of us.
Thirty minutes before the scheduled start of that Special Meeting, our Supervisor, Mr. Paul Ligasan, pointed out an article from a national broadsheet. Mr. Ligasan, I have learned, reads the newspaper daily…and when I say daily, I mean daily.
He told us about the secrets to living a longer life. And one of them, according to Sir Paul, is to get married. I guess I happen to be one of those people who do not really think highly of marriage- at least, the kind of marriage that young people make these days. And when he said it, I pointed out that sometimes, marriage itself is the cause of the problem (I could not recall my exact words).
I could not really remember how the conversation progressed but I remember one thing that Sir Paul mentioned. He said that disappointments in a relationship, be it romantic or otherwise, usually happens only when you expect more from the other person.
You will only be disappointed if you ask the other person to give you something which he or she cannot give. I guess this one is right.
If there are no expectations, there are no disappointments. Sometimes, preconceived notions and ideas are dangerous in any endeavour or encounter. One is better off if one sticks with the cold, hard facts of the trade.
I learned my lesson I guess. And this lesson is being reinforced daily. Expectations = disappointments.
We were in the Conference Hall of the Mayor's Office, waiting for the members of the City Literacy Coordinating Council to arrive. As members of the CLCC Secretariat, we attend the meetings of the council to facilitate, record, note down, present and do other functions expected of us.
Thirty minutes before the scheduled start of that Special Meeting, our Supervisor, Mr. Paul Ligasan, pointed out an article from a national broadsheet. Mr. Ligasan, I have learned, reads the newspaper daily…and when I say daily, I mean daily.
He told us about the secrets to living a longer life. And one of them, according to Sir Paul, is to get married. I guess I happen to be one of those people who do not really think highly of marriage- at least, the kind of marriage that young people make these days. And when he said it, I pointed out that sometimes, marriage itself is the cause of the problem (I could not recall my exact words).
I could not really remember how the conversation progressed but I remember one thing that Sir Paul mentioned. He said that disappointments in a relationship, be it romantic or otherwise, usually happens only when you expect more from the other person.
You will only be disappointed if you ask the other person to give you something which he or she cannot give. I guess this one is right.
If there are no expectations, there are no disappointments. Sometimes, preconceived notions and ideas are dangerous in any endeavour or encounter. One is better off if one sticks with the cold, hard facts of the trade.
I learned my lesson I guess. And this lesson is being reinforced daily. Expectations = disappointments.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Friday, March 19, 2010
Pagbabago
Everybody wants change. I guess it all started with my fb fiasco.but,my next blog entry will be different.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
I Am A Vampire: On the Fringes of Existence
Now Playing: New Divide
Yes, I have gone through New Moon and Eclipse with frightening speed (and blasphemous skips). Now, I am savoring Breaking Down page by slow page.
I love Breaking Down. I adored some portions of New Moon and Eclipse (not all, no, I am not that patient)…
Anyway, this is not about the Twilight Saga actually or the fact that my brains seemed to have literally shut down after spending night after night poring over Stepheni Meyer’s sick fantasies (and making up my own, which happens to be sicker than Stephenie’s).
This is about me (as usual) and my vampiric career.
I used to keep mum about how I feel being the outcast of the system. It has been a taboo topic in my blog because I feel so conspicuous.
What makes this post an exception? Probably because here I am in the office while all the other teachers are up there in a meeting.
I never revealed this to anyone before. Well, not anyone who could easily rat me out to the higher ups that is. But, I could no longer bear the pain I feel.
I hate faculty meetings. Why?
Because it makes me feel that I am an outcast, that I am not on the rolls, that I am not a part of the organization I have chosen to place my allegiance on.
I was often told that I am, in reality, not a good team player. I tend to think only of myself and I often forget others. However, my school cannot really accuse me of that before.
Now, however, it is a different matter.
It took me a half-day rest to get over the depression that sort of gripped me for a few weeks now. I think the rest is not even enough. Right now, I feel cheerful, fine and accepting. Right now, I feel okay.
That is why I have chosen not to attend the meeting today. Because I do not want to feel bad. I don’t want to destabilize the tricky balance I have right now.
I consolingly told myself not to expect anything from the organization. That sort of erased all the frustrations that ate at me since day one. I told myself that two years from now, I am leaving this school. That I only have to bear the pain of making the wrong choice for two more years na lang guid.
However, attending meetings with all the teachers there is just too painful to contemplate, so I decided to skip this meeting. No meetings for baby vampire until she has learned to control her thirst.
I guess I will never belong to the world of ordinary human beings. I am for too conspicuous, far too different, far too unlike them to mixed with them that easily.
I, an unknown entity in this school, an unlisted teacher, have just realized my truth. I am glad I have made the choice and have accepted that in this place, I am a vampire, unknown, unseen, not really a part of the place I am in.
Yes, I have gone through New Moon and Eclipse with frightening speed (and blasphemous skips). Now, I am savoring Breaking Down page by slow page.
I love Breaking Down. I adored some portions of New Moon and Eclipse (not all, no, I am not that patient)…
Anyway, this is not about the Twilight Saga actually or the fact that my brains seemed to have literally shut down after spending night after night poring over Stepheni Meyer’s sick fantasies (and making up my own, which happens to be sicker than Stephenie’s).
This is about me (as usual) and my vampiric career.
I used to keep mum about how I feel being the outcast of the system. It has been a taboo topic in my blog because I feel so conspicuous.
What makes this post an exception? Probably because here I am in the office while all the other teachers are up there in a meeting.
I never revealed this to anyone before. Well, not anyone who could easily rat me out to the higher ups that is. But, I could no longer bear the pain I feel.
I hate faculty meetings. Why?
Because it makes me feel that I am an outcast, that I am not on the rolls, that I am not a part of the organization I have chosen to place my allegiance on.
I was often told that I am, in reality, not a good team player. I tend to think only of myself and I often forget others. However, my school cannot really accuse me of that before.
Now, however, it is a different matter.
It took me a half-day rest to get over the depression that sort of gripped me for a few weeks now. I think the rest is not even enough. Right now, I feel cheerful, fine and accepting. Right now, I feel okay.
That is why I have chosen not to attend the meeting today. Because I do not want to feel bad. I don’t want to destabilize the tricky balance I have right now.
I consolingly told myself not to expect anything from the organization. That sort of erased all the frustrations that ate at me since day one. I told myself that two years from now, I am leaving this school. That I only have to bear the pain of making the wrong choice for two more years na lang guid.
However, attending meetings with all the teachers there is just too painful to contemplate, so I decided to skip this meeting. No meetings for baby vampire until she has learned to control her thirst.
I guess I will never belong to the world of ordinary human beings. I am for too conspicuous, far too different, far too unlike them to mixed with them that easily.
I, an unknown entity in this school, an unlisted teacher, have just realized my truth. I am glad I have made the choice and have accepted that in this place, I am a vampire, unknown, unseen, not really a part of the place I am in.
Immediate Plans
Well yes, I did my duty to my Alma Mater. I have given it a portion of myself and my time and I did my best for it, while I could.
It is time that I did that best to myself, find my destiny somewhere else and get over this depression that comes from deeply imbedded feelings of rejection and inadequacy. The attacks are more frequent now, more deeply felt, more encompassing.
Just when I thought things are better, I would just burst into tears for no apparent reason. So, I have to make a move… I have to leave the old school.
The plan is set. After my stint at grad school, I am leaving my Alma Mater for good, not to seek greener pastures (I used to be happy to rot in my hometown eight years ago) but to find myself, my special place in the sun and pursue my destiny.
I originally thought I was destined to teach at my old highschool. I did not know that I was fighting what was willed for me in the first place when I forcibly instigated myself into the old school.
Now, three years under its shadow, I have come to know better.
It no longer matters where I teach, and whether I teach my fellow Passinhons or not. Teaching is a universal call for me and I have accepted that as long as I teach, I could always radiate what God has given me to those impressionable and hungry souls who have come to school to seek out parcels of their own truth.
I used to be so biased about teaching. Yes, I was honestly difficult when it comes to that. I voiced out my disapproval about teachers who go abroad and those who teach in places far from their hometowns. I used to think that teaching could only be meaningful if you teach people who mean so much to you. I used to think that teaching would only have sense if you teach you kasimanwas.
Now, I have come to realize that whoever and wherever you teach, you eventually care for the practice and you would feel the same way towards your students. Teaching is an investment of a teacher’s time, effort and self to help the students find themselves. You always give a part of yourself away whenever you teach and that would make you care for those people who would eventually receive the pieces you gave away…your students.
I am glad that my old school would no longer need me as much as I need to be needed. I am glad that the memory of turning my back from my Alma Mater would no longer haunt me as I used to think it would.
Because I have, finally, made my decision. I am leaving the old school after two more years. By then, I would have left a beautiful story, and I would have taught several Passinhons about life and the real world. Hopefully, by then, I would have left something that they would remember me with.
By that time, I would be ready to explore other worlds, other wonders. Some would think I would apply to my old college school.
I don’t think I would do that. I have learned that I actually would not feel comfortable rubbing elbows with people who know me well.
Life would be easy if I make a clean break of it and go to a new place where I would learn new things.
I am very grateful to my old school for not tying me down. It made me realize that I am being called somewhere else. That I am actually marching to the beat of a different drum, that I am actually hearing a different call than the one I have run after.
What I used to think as rejection was actually a blessing in disguise.
Truly, God works in mysterious ways.
It is time that I did that best to myself, find my destiny somewhere else and get over this depression that comes from deeply imbedded feelings of rejection and inadequacy. The attacks are more frequent now, more deeply felt, more encompassing.
Just when I thought things are better, I would just burst into tears for no apparent reason. So, I have to make a move… I have to leave the old school.
The plan is set. After my stint at grad school, I am leaving my Alma Mater for good, not to seek greener pastures (I used to be happy to rot in my hometown eight years ago) but to find myself, my special place in the sun and pursue my destiny.
I originally thought I was destined to teach at my old highschool. I did not know that I was fighting what was willed for me in the first place when I forcibly instigated myself into the old school.
Now, three years under its shadow, I have come to know better.
It no longer matters where I teach, and whether I teach my fellow Passinhons or not. Teaching is a universal call for me and I have accepted that as long as I teach, I could always radiate what God has given me to those impressionable and hungry souls who have come to school to seek out parcels of their own truth.
I used to be so biased about teaching. Yes, I was honestly difficult when it comes to that. I voiced out my disapproval about teachers who go abroad and those who teach in places far from their hometowns. I used to think that teaching could only be meaningful if you teach people who mean so much to you. I used to think that teaching would only have sense if you teach you kasimanwas.
Now, I have come to realize that whoever and wherever you teach, you eventually care for the practice and you would feel the same way towards your students. Teaching is an investment of a teacher’s time, effort and self to help the students find themselves. You always give a part of yourself away whenever you teach and that would make you care for those people who would eventually receive the pieces you gave away…your students.
I am glad that my old school would no longer need me as much as I need to be needed. I am glad that the memory of turning my back from my Alma Mater would no longer haunt me as I used to think it would.
Because I have, finally, made my decision. I am leaving the old school after two more years. By then, I would have left a beautiful story, and I would have taught several Passinhons about life and the real world. Hopefully, by then, I would have left something that they would remember me with.
By that time, I would be ready to explore other worlds, other wonders. Some would think I would apply to my old college school.
I don’t think I would do that. I have learned that I actually would not feel comfortable rubbing elbows with people who know me well.
Life would be easy if I make a clean break of it and go to a new place where I would learn new things.
I am very grateful to my old school for not tying me down. It made me realize that I am being called somewhere else. That I am actually marching to the beat of a different drum, that I am actually hearing a different call than the one I have run after.
What I used to think as rejection was actually a blessing in disguise.
Truly, God works in mysterious ways.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
DAM MA I
Now Playing: Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park
I am mad. I feel absolutely out of place in this world I have so insistently tried to penetrate for three years now.
I feel like I am an alien body that is trying to co-exist with humans, or perhaps a vampire living on the fringe of human existence.
I want to scream out. I want to… I don’t know.
Nobody can hurt me without my consent. I wonder why I am allowing the monsters of this impenetrable kingdom to actually hurt me.
Maybe because I wanted to come out as a damsel in distress or the wronged party in this mad dash to nothingness.
You are absolutely right. An unexpected meeting has brought this reaction. Meetings with the principal always make me feel like this. As if all the rock songs I have is never enough to expel the demon raging inside me.
Right now, it is licking me dry with flames of ice. I feel cold inside. I feel numbed. I am feeling so much pain that I have frozen within, enough to freeze the tears that would threaten to fall.
It is all my fault anyway. Who told me to stay here and wait on God knows who or what to take pity on me and make my existence legal and valid.
I said a resounding no to another offer I just received. Damme. But, isn’t it just dandy? I do not want to regret the decisions I made.
But, to reiterate what I said a few weeks ago, I regretted the decision that prompted me to stick to my guns and run after an ideal that refused to be achieved.
They say that when the door closes, a window of opportunity opens. The door to this institution I am in right now is eternally locked and the key has been swallowed by a fire-breathing dragon.
A window opened a year ago and I am so glad I caught it just in time. That window actually saved me from being imprisoned inside the castle of destruction and desolation. Instead, it has allowed me a safe haven to see and be part of the castle practices but never be tied to it.
Like a traveling bard, I am here inside the castle, only for a while. A really short while… then, once I see another window pop open, I am jumping out…never to return again.
I’ll never walk through that door. Not even if the dragon opens it for me with an engaging grin on his face.
No. Opportunity seldom knocks twice (it’s the opportunist who does that). The next time my bard duties are through, I am leaving the castle.
I am mad. I feel absolutely out of place in this world I have so insistently tried to penetrate for three years now.
I feel like I am an alien body that is trying to co-exist with humans, or perhaps a vampire living on the fringe of human existence.
I want to scream out. I want to… I don’t know.
Nobody can hurt me without my consent. I wonder why I am allowing the monsters of this impenetrable kingdom to actually hurt me.
Maybe because I wanted to come out as a damsel in distress or the wronged party in this mad dash to nothingness.
You are absolutely right. An unexpected meeting has brought this reaction. Meetings with the principal always make me feel like this. As if all the rock songs I have is never enough to expel the demon raging inside me.
Right now, it is licking me dry with flames of ice. I feel cold inside. I feel numbed. I am feeling so much pain that I have frozen within, enough to freeze the tears that would threaten to fall.
It is all my fault anyway. Who told me to stay here and wait on God knows who or what to take pity on me and make my existence legal and valid.
I said a resounding no to another offer I just received. Damme. But, isn’t it just dandy? I do not want to regret the decisions I made.
But, to reiterate what I said a few weeks ago, I regretted the decision that prompted me to stick to my guns and run after an ideal that refused to be achieved.
They say that when the door closes, a window of opportunity opens. The door to this institution I am in right now is eternally locked and the key has been swallowed by a fire-breathing dragon.
A window opened a year ago and I am so glad I caught it just in time. That window actually saved me from being imprisoned inside the castle of destruction and desolation. Instead, it has allowed me a safe haven to see and be part of the castle practices but never be tied to it.
Like a traveling bard, I am here inside the castle, only for a while. A really short while… then, once I see another window pop open, I am jumping out…never to return again.
I’ll never walk through that door. Not even if the dragon opens it for me with an engaging grin on his face.
No. Opportunity seldom knocks twice (it’s the opportunist who does that). The next time my bard duties are through, I am leaving the castle.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Here I Go Again
I am trying to rush my sisters project in her tourism class and I am trying to make up make-believe facts and figures about unheard of foreign and domestic tourist destinations.
Whew!
I swear never to use my students in filling up my empty portfolio of examples and picture files for my classes.
Damn. I sort of hate teachers who do that.
Whew!
I swear never to use my students in filling up my empty portfolio of examples and picture files for my classes.
Damn. I sort of hate teachers who do that.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Oh well
Right now, I do not really care what other people say about me.
I guess I got so over the idea of trying to fit into people’s conception of who and what I should be that I have stopped being myself.
I wanted to be a model daughter so I did everything that my mother asked me to do. In the end, I was not able to stop her from doing something destructive which has made all of us suffer. I listened to her for the last 23 years of my life and for that one single year I asked her for something, she refused to even hear me.
I wanted to become a model teacher and served my alma mater. It was not the money at first. It was the brimming idealism of a teacher who honestly longed to serve. But, the administration made sure I would loose even that. Because of politically and nepotistically minded people, I lost myself.
I wanted to become a model daughter so I did all I could for my siblings only to realize that no one really cared. Oh well, what are younger sisters for. They would not listen. It’s just like I am not even there.
Now, I wanted to be myself. Now, I am doing the things that I wanted to do in the first place. I spent most of my summer at the blank, blank university for my master’s degree in English language teaching. I spend most of my free time in the library reading. I spent the other spare time huddled before a computer downloading songs and other relevant info. I spend other free times watching movies, sleeping, eating o just thinking.
Because now, I have stopped caring.
I don’t really care about my application for a national item at school. I mean whatever. The whole thing sucks. Who knows, I might find something more lucrative.
I don’t really care about what people will say about me. I will just do my job and they all can go to wherever they want to go.
I guess I got so over the idea of trying to fit into people’s conception of who and what I should be that I have stopped being myself.
I wanted to be a model daughter so I did everything that my mother asked me to do. In the end, I was not able to stop her from doing something destructive which has made all of us suffer. I listened to her for the last 23 years of my life and for that one single year I asked her for something, she refused to even hear me.
I wanted to become a model teacher and served my alma mater. It was not the money at first. It was the brimming idealism of a teacher who honestly longed to serve. But, the administration made sure I would loose even that. Because of politically and nepotistically minded people, I lost myself.
I wanted to become a model daughter so I did all I could for my siblings only to realize that no one really cared. Oh well, what are younger sisters for. They would not listen. It’s just like I am not even there.
Now, I wanted to be myself. Now, I am doing the things that I wanted to do in the first place. I spent most of my summer at the blank, blank university for my master’s degree in English language teaching. I spend most of my free time in the library reading. I spent the other spare time huddled before a computer downloading songs and other relevant info. I spend other free times watching movies, sleeping, eating o just thinking.
Because now, I have stopped caring.
I don’t really care about my application for a national item at school. I mean whatever. The whole thing sucks. Who knows, I might find something more lucrative.
I don’t really care about what people will say about me. I will just do my job and they all can go to wherever they want to go.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Right Now
Right now, I do not really care what other people say about me.
I guess I got so over the idea of trying to fit into people’s conception of who and what I should be that I have stopped being myself.
I wanted to be a model daughter so I did everything that my mother asked me to do. In the end, I was not able to stop her from doing something destructive which has made all of us suffer. I listened to her for the last 23 years of my life and for that one single year I asked her for something, she refused to even hear me.
I wanted to become a model teacher and served my alma mater. It was not the money at first. It was the brimming idealism of a teacher who honestly longed to serve. But, the administration made sure I would loose even that. Because of politically and nepotistically minded people, I lost myself.
I wanted to become a model daughter so I did all I could for my siblings only to realize that no one really cared. Oh well, what are younger sisters for. They would not listen. It’s just like I am not even there.
Now, I wanted to be myself. Now, I am doing the things that I wanted to do in the first place. I spent most of my summer at the blank, blank university for my master’s degree in English language teaching. I spend most of my free time in the library reading. I spent the other spare time huddled before a computer downloading songs and other relevant info. I spend other free times watching movies, sleeping, eating o just thinking.
Because now, I have stopped caring.
I don’t really care about my application for a national item at school. I mean whatever. The whole thing sucks. Who knows, I might find something more lucrative.
I don’t really care about what people will say about me. I will just do my job and they all can go to wherever they want to go.
I guess I got so over the idea of trying to fit into people’s conception of who and what I should be that I have stopped being myself.
I wanted to be a model daughter so I did everything that my mother asked me to do. In the end, I was not able to stop her from doing something destructive which has made all of us suffer. I listened to her for the last 23 years of my life and for that one single year I asked her for something, she refused to even hear me.
I wanted to become a model teacher and served my alma mater. It was not the money at first. It was the brimming idealism of a teacher who honestly longed to serve. But, the administration made sure I would loose even that. Because of politically and nepotistically minded people, I lost myself.
I wanted to become a model daughter so I did all I could for my siblings only to realize that no one really cared. Oh well, what are younger sisters for. They would not listen. It’s just like I am not even there.
Now, I wanted to be myself. Now, I am doing the things that I wanted to do in the first place. I spent most of my summer at the blank, blank university for my master’s degree in English language teaching. I spend most of my free time in the library reading. I spent the other spare time huddled before a computer downloading songs and other relevant info. I spend other free times watching movies, sleeping, eating o just thinking.
Because now, I have stopped caring.
I don’t really care about my application for a national item at school. I mean whatever. The whole thing sucks. Who knows, I might find something more lucrative.
I don’t really care about what people will say about me. I will just do my job and they all can go to wherever they want to go.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
There are no happy endings.
Now playing: Leave out all the rest by Linkin Park
Everything ends in death or loss, because as long as there is still something out there, you know it is not yet the end.
My dog died today. He has been with us since he was a baby. We had to feed him milk, help him on his feet, and train him.
When you want to call him, you do not need to whistle or make ordinary dog sounds. All you have to do is call out his name or the monicker of it: Beebee. We also sometimes call him Peebee from Spielbee.
We were not exactly sure if Spielberg was a pedigreed dog. We did not care. We like the fury ball of energy which came into our life unexpectedly.
He was the first male dog we really warmed up on. Well, we girls in the family always frowned upon male dogs but Spielberg was an irresistible force.
Then, just two days ago, he got sick. He refused to eat and kept vomiting nothing. I took him out for a walk this morning but all he did was lie on the pavement as if he was too tired. I promised to take him out for a walk everyday if he would just get well.
That promise still holds. I am going to walk every morning as a memorial for Beebee.
I wished we brought him earlier to the local vet but we were just too late.
I feel a bit angry, sad, and confused.
When my brother said he has died, apparently in his sleep, I did not feel anything. I have become a total expert in blocking my feelings, but, the overwhelming pain eventually caught up with me and I felt my heart breaking literally.
I could not breathe. It was as if a big stone has lodged somewhere in my heart.
Beebee always slept on my bed every morning. And he is such a noisy bedmate because he keeps barking all night.
He pretended to be such a brave pug and would act as if he would attack anyone close only to back off when you leave him facing the “enemy”.
He was the thing I hugged when I felt sad. I really would miss feeling his awkward licks. He never really learned how to lick a hand properly, you know.
I am going to miss him.
I asked God to give us this pet. Beg and bargained with Him to allow us to keep him. My prayers fell on deaf ears.
Was it not important?
It made me evaluate a lot of things in my life lately.
Do animals have souls (watch Brother Bear 1 and 2)? When they die, where do their souls go (I am currently playing Even in Death by Evanescence, I thought I heard him bark)?
Does God have any special place for them?
I don’t know. I feel as if something inside me has changed with the death of this pet. I was the one who named him Spielberg. We were so totally into Dreamworks movies, that’s why.
I am going to miss you, Spielberg.
When he was a pup, Spielberg walked all over my laptop and was able to leave this mess on my files. I copied it and kept it. I intend to delete it so I made a back up here.
It was created on Friday, December 26, 2008 at 10:19:26 AM
Xdffffdd6y7y777777777uijjjjjjj888888888888dddddddddwwwwwl,kvgbbbbbbkjpikokl.oogfhffheee8i97’;[;90fffgvjmnh4e3wrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmwwwwwwjnmkkkkkhsdxxxxxxjikmedrrrrrrrrrrrrriimwwwwwwwwwwkwk22ikkikkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
I would rather think that Peebee has now joined the spirits and is at peace. It would be awfully painfully to even remotely consider that after this life, that valiant spirit, that spirit which made him wag his tail when he was very much closer to death’ door, would just disappear like that.
My sister is still crying outside and I cannot console her.
Now playing: My Last Breath by Evanescence
Everything ends in death or loss, because as long as there is still something out there, you know it is not yet the end.
My dog died today. He has been with us since he was a baby. We had to feed him milk, help him on his feet, and train him.
When you want to call him, you do not need to whistle or make ordinary dog sounds. All you have to do is call out his name or the monicker of it: Beebee. We also sometimes call him Peebee from Spielbee.
We were not exactly sure if Spielberg was a pedigreed dog. We did not care. We like the fury ball of energy which came into our life unexpectedly.
He was the first male dog we really warmed up on. Well, we girls in the family always frowned upon male dogs but Spielberg was an irresistible force.
Then, just two days ago, he got sick. He refused to eat and kept vomiting nothing. I took him out for a walk this morning but all he did was lie on the pavement as if he was too tired. I promised to take him out for a walk everyday if he would just get well.
That promise still holds. I am going to walk every morning as a memorial for Beebee.
I wished we brought him earlier to the local vet but we were just too late.
I feel a bit angry, sad, and confused.
When my brother said he has died, apparently in his sleep, I did not feel anything. I have become a total expert in blocking my feelings, but, the overwhelming pain eventually caught up with me and I felt my heart breaking literally.
I could not breathe. It was as if a big stone has lodged somewhere in my heart.
Beebee always slept on my bed every morning. And he is such a noisy bedmate because he keeps barking all night.
He pretended to be such a brave pug and would act as if he would attack anyone close only to back off when you leave him facing the “enemy”.
He was the thing I hugged when I felt sad. I really would miss feeling his awkward licks. He never really learned how to lick a hand properly, you know.
I am going to miss him.
I asked God to give us this pet. Beg and bargained with Him to allow us to keep him. My prayers fell on deaf ears.
Was it not important?
It made me evaluate a lot of things in my life lately.
Do animals have souls (watch Brother Bear 1 and 2)? When they die, where do their souls go (I am currently playing Even in Death by Evanescence, I thought I heard him bark)?
Does God have any special place for them?
I don’t know. I feel as if something inside me has changed with the death of this pet. I was the one who named him Spielberg. We were so totally into Dreamworks movies, that’s why.
I am going to miss you, Spielberg.
When he was a pup, Spielberg walked all over my laptop and was able to leave this mess on my files. I copied it and kept it. I intend to delete it so I made a back up here.
It was created on Friday, December 26, 2008 at 10:19:26 AM
Xdffffdd6y7y777777777uijjjjjjj888888888888dddddddddwwwwwl,kvgbbbbbbkjpikokl.oogfhffheee8i97’;[;90fffgvjmnh4e3wrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmwwwwwwjnmkkkkkhsdxxxxxxjikmedrrrrrrrrrrrrriimwwwwwwwwwwkwk22ikkikkkkkkkkkkkkkkk
I would rather think that Peebee has now joined the spirits and is at peace. It would be awfully painfully to even remotely consider that after this life, that valiant spirit, that spirit which made him wag his tail when he was very much closer to death’ door, would just disappear like that.
My sister is still crying outside and I cannot console her.
Now playing: My Last Breath by Evanescence
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Heavenessence : What’s left of me…once you take everything else.
An old college friend once told me that I have a tendency of giving my justification and rationale in the middle of a lecture. Sort of writing the significance of the study in the chapter for the review of related literature, when it comes to research.
Well, I guess, she is right.
And I think the reason for that is because I usually realize the significance of my actions only while I am doing those actions.
The problem with someone like me is I tend to overanalyze things. I would get thoroughly distracted by a matter or a decision I have to make and I would try to churn it up in my brain. When I could find no objections or I have successfully blocked all objections, only then would I start acting.
The reason, the enlightenment, comes while I am working on it or after I worked on it. As a college professor once said to me, there are persons who have foresights, insights or aftersights.
I guess I am in the last category if it so exist. If not, I may be offbeat.
For years, I have been searching for meaning. I wanted to know the whys, hows, whens and wheres of the whos and whats. I unconsciously went in search of knowledge and wisdom and after years of searching, I haven’t come any closer to the answer.
In fact, until now, I do not know what I am looking for. Everything else is still a blur of wh and h questions.
Who am I? Why am I here? What am I doing? Where am I going? Where was I from?
Questions I could not answer until now.
There are a lot of answers depending on the philosophy you subscribe in or the religion you aspire to or the faith you believe in.
But, what if there are no philosophies, no schools of thought, no religion. What becomes of us? What becomes of me?
A heaping mass of unidentified confounded creature.
What a sorry existence.
If you take away everything else, what becomes of us? What becomes of man?
But then, is there really anything else aside from what?
Questions.
I need my coffee, I think. Sugar-saturated.
Well, I guess, she is right.
And I think the reason for that is because I usually realize the significance of my actions only while I am doing those actions.
The problem with someone like me is I tend to overanalyze things. I would get thoroughly distracted by a matter or a decision I have to make and I would try to churn it up in my brain. When I could find no objections or I have successfully blocked all objections, only then would I start acting.
The reason, the enlightenment, comes while I am working on it or after I worked on it. As a college professor once said to me, there are persons who have foresights, insights or aftersights.
I guess I am in the last category if it so exist. If not, I may be offbeat.
For years, I have been searching for meaning. I wanted to know the whys, hows, whens and wheres of the whos and whats. I unconsciously went in search of knowledge and wisdom and after years of searching, I haven’t come any closer to the answer.
In fact, until now, I do not know what I am looking for. Everything else is still a blur of wh and h questions.
Who am I? Why am I here? What am I doing? Where am I going? Where was I from?
Questions I could not answer until now.
There are a lot of answers depending on the philosophy you subscribe in or the religion you aspire to or the faith you believe in.
But, what if there are no philosophies, no schools of thought, no religion. What becomes of us? What becomes of me?
A heaping mass of unidentified confounded creature.
What a sorry existence.
If you take away everything else, what becomes of us? What becomes of man?
But then, is there really anything else aside from what?
Questions.
I need my coffee, I think. Sugar-saturated.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Regrets
I know I make seriou msitakes and I hate myself when I make them. You know what, I am writing this now in the highest peak of an angry feeling that keeps welling up inside me after a very short session with an ugly person.
Yeah, right.
Can you delete moments from your life? If I could, I would. And I would also delete those persons who made me feel a little angry.
Yes, I hate you. Thank God, you are not a reader of this blog and thank God that you will never now I have been writing about you in a silly way.
Yes, If I could, I would erase from my mind entirely.
If I could, I would happily eradicate you from the list of persons who have become special for me over the years.
Go to hell, idiot. And rot there.
Yeah, right.
Can you delete moments from your life? If I could, I would. And I would also delete those persons who made me feel a little angry.
Yes, I hate you. Thank God, you are not a reader of this blog and thank God that you will never now I have been writing about you in a silly way.
Yes, If I could, I would erase from my mind entirely.
If I could, I would happily eradicate you from the list of persons who have become special for me over the years.
Go to hell, idiot. And rot there.
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