Psychedelic Psyche

A New Year's Resolution

2011-01-05T14:04:00.000+08:00

I am not one that believes on New Year's Resolution (NYR). For me, it's one of the world's most sacred phrases that have been taken for granted. Who started it anyway? Thank God, I'm now way passed my Formal and Informal Theme writing years. Perhaps requiring students to write about it is a band-aid remedy by English teachers who were not able to prepare a lesson plan during the long break. It's like a topic of last resort between two bored friends in a coffee shop. It comes handy when there's nothing else interesting to talk about. Or has it become a force of habit? I think the very reason that I am not liking it is that it was being imposed on me since I started writing my ABCs in school. Like a bitter pill stuck into my throat, I was not given the chance to decide whether I'd like to taste it or not. Meaning, every year in all my years of learning I was made to come up with New Year's resolutions because the English teacher required it. Whether, I meant it or not, it didn't matter. Whether there were genuine resolutions that took place, nobody cared to know. I have yet to hear people claiming to owe their life's successes to the NYR habit, among other factors.

Don't get wrong. I am not totally against NYR. I am for its real intent. As a commitment for reform of one or more aspects of self, NYR is a sacred thing. If taken seriously, one NYR to another leads to the actualization of one's highest potential. It brings nothing but goodness.

Through the years, I've been pessimistic about it until recently. Since it's 2011, I've decided to give NYR a chance for a change. I will only make one resolution and try hard to keep at it.

So I hereby resolve to practice writing by typing my random thoughts for at least 30 minutes daily! I hope that by doing so, I'm able to keep my passion for writing burning. It is my dream to write a piece of work
that may bring goodwill to others and perhaps, world peace (I thank you).

My 30-minute writing practice for the day is up. Let me now put the cursor to rest.

Giving Birth

2008-10-08T18:02:00.002+08:00

I was not professionally trained as a writer. But writing assignments have never escaped me since I can remember. I said "assignments" because they were either given to me in exchange for bread and butter or "forced" on me in exchange for a psychic income. Either way, it is beneficial to both my body and soul no doubt about it. But no matter how tremendous and incalculable the good that producing an article offers me, it is never without pain. Coming out with appropriate words, much less arranging them to form a sensible idea and not to appear like something that is cut out from a lunatic 's perspective, to me, is intense labor. It feels like the cells of my body are trapped in a dark cave of nowhere, searching for a tiny spark and gasping for fresh air. I need to come out from the pit of silent cry. I need to be transported to a special place where the rampaging and crisscrossing of thoughts are finally given expression and meaning; where the squalls are finally heard. If this is not a virtual preview of what giving birth to screaming babies is, then what is.

Clark and Carie: A Toast

2008-08-28T10:18:00.007+08:00

Dear Clark and Carie. Dear Carie and Clark.

I am not yet married but I have witnessed a hundred and one weddings and marriages and how weddings and marriages are ought to be. Now, I guess that's my only qualification to propose a toast.

For me, marriage is an adventure of a lifetime. It is a journey toward uncharted territories so that there shall be bumps, curves, twists, turns and of course smooth pavements along the way. There shall be an endless discovery of character--good and not-so good, and if you wish, also a constant building of personhood of one for the other so that the union of two hearts is seamlessly perfected through time. Since the process involves a multitude of dichotomies of every aspect of life, strengthen your hearts. That is, hope for the best but prepare for the inevitables. While you are at it, may you not forget that you are friends and lovers in the first place so find time to do what you love to do, like travel once in a while or go out on a date regularly. The latter is a must.

Now, let me share with you the best advice of married couples to newlyweds that I've gathered so far (told ya, I'm a wedding junkie): Hold hands every time you get a chance. More importantly, never let go of each other's hands at times when you don't see eye to eye and you have to fight. It's quite a skill to master but it can be done, as told based on experience.

So here's to a lifelong of beautiful, blessed and blissful union of Clark and Carie, let's drink to that!

some random musings about life

2007-08-21T00:54:00.000+08:00

one significant person once told me that i am naive. was i shocked. i could not believe what crashed into my eardrums. i thought i was just too dense to get it. perhaps being dense is naivety to the highest level. i have no idea. but what i am quite sure at this very moment is that i just don't get some people who seem to be happy at making other people's lives (MY LIFE , actually and those have to be in capital letters though i want it appear less obvious) unhappy. why can't they just tell you ( I mean, me: the open and close parentheses here signify discreetness) straight to your blank face what in the world they really want from you! for sure, not all people are born fortune tellers ( and that's with a resounding: helloooooo!@#@?) or maybe life is a guessing game. guess 'till you freeze. how's that? am i born in this planet to figure out things everyday of my life until eternity? i need another palm reader to foretell my destiny, anyone?

isn't it that gift of knowledge is ought to be shared for humanity's advantage? so the unlearned may learn..or maybe the adage that i once read in a chamomile-flavored herbal tea box that goes: "Knowledge is power" has motivated others to gain knowledge, more and more of it every step of the way, because that would mean more power for them. what power? power to dominate over the weak, the stupid, the ignorant? power to spawn some disease called intellectual arrogance?

i am now beginning to believe that in the greatest scheme of things called universe, everything is really, really complex. i used to think it's just complex (that comes with a shoulders' shrug), not something really, really complex because with the former there are no-brainer easy chicken ways to weather the complexities of things. case in point: if i were a waitress, and you are a VIP diner and your order a steak which is cooked with 1/2 cup soy sauce , 1 clove garlic (mashed) 1/2 cup water,1/4 cup salad oil, 2 md. green peppers (thinly sliced), 1 md. onion( also thinly sliced), 5 stalks celery (again, thinly sliced), 1 tbsp. cornstarch and 1/2 cup water, 2 tomatoes (cut into wedges), and serve over a hot java steamed rice . well, it sounds complex but i can figure it out because you've told me exactly what you want in your steak. little did i know that such kind of situation can become really, really complex---that is, if you want a Chinese pepper steak, which is not in our menu and you want the beef fresh from China and you and I happen to be in a steak house in Iqaluit, Canada; and that type of things happen all the time!

whatever happened to the old saying: "Be kind to animals" that i used to read in my grandma's apple lemon pomegranate rooibos tea box? did it go down with the trash loading the drain?

in this world, i only have lots of questions. but no answers.

The Anatomy of Silence

2007-07-08T14:28:00.004+08:00

It just gets me wondering down to my toenails why some people can be damn quite for eternity. It seems that an invisible thread tightly stitched their mouth so that no amount of word can escape from it. It's not that they are not gifted with well-functioning vocal chords, larynch, esophagus, tongue and everthing else that the Great Maker put together for Adam and his descendants to produce sounds that turn into words that turn into phrases that turn sentences that turn into paragraphs. It only takes a little effort to utter any of them. It looks like they are not too happy to be endowed with such an amazing gift of speech! It's just ironic that those people who have difficulty in speaking try their might to utter words that are hard to decode, not to mention spend tons of money to get the aid of professionals and technology. Perhaps, the most powerful messages that humankind has ever produced are communicated without a word.

To Vote or Not To Vote

2007-06-02T22:19:00.000+08:00

Destined thousand miles away from the place where I am a registered voter, to vote or not to vote in the upcoming May elections suddenly becomes a major decision to make for me. It brings me back to Good Friday since it entails a lot of sacrifices that for one thing bores a hole in my already worn-out pocket.

I hate to admit it but it gets easy to be carried away by a despondent view that whether or not one exercises right to suffrage, nothing good comes out of it. Many people might think that whether we vote or not we still belong to the “most corrupt country in Asia” as Hong Kong-based Political and Economic Risk Consultancy (PBRC) 2007 survey reveals.

Some rationalize voting as a “negative ROI (return of investment)”. They calculate that both financial (e.g. plane tickets) and sweat equities that they render in going through the tedious voting process do not just pay off. All these misgivings are not expressed without a huge sigh coming from the diaphragms of citizens who are frustrated and deeply troubled by the country’s filthy political landscape. I claim not to be an exception. However, letting myself to be punished for being governed by pseudo-leaders, those who are only motivated by self-interests and greed, because I did not cast my vote is an added burden I can not bear in the near future.

For a government system that has taken shape out of seveal molds of colonialism, effecting change into it seems to be a herculean task, close to impossible. They say that there is nothing wrong with the system; the flaw lies on the people who run it. It takes a foreigner in Paul Hutchcroft, author of Booty Capitalism (1998), to remind us that for centuries general type of people that we are electing into office are those that adhere to “rent capitalism” which describes “systems in which money is invested in arrangements or appropriating wealth which has already been produced rather in arrangements or actually producing it.” These people are either bureaucratic elites, who are benefiting rent extraction within the state apparatus or oligarchs, who “have an economic base quite independent of the state apparatus, but access to the state is nonetheless the major avenue to private accumulation.” Talk about the never-ending presence of political dynasties and the octopus-like reach of elite families’ networks in government, business, education, and other key sectors. Talk about the huge economic divide between the rich and the poor. Talk about poverty.

In my class in Philippine Bureaucracy, my professor observed that the problems within the system are deeply rooted in history so that bringing about change has to be radical. Dismantling the oligarchy dominating both the country’s economic and political arenas could well be a potent step towards a transformed Filipino nation. He said that Cory Aquino under a revolutionary government had such chance but missed it. “Ramos, who neither qualified as political aristocrat nor oligarch, had all the chance to do it . Well, he started it when he liberalized major trades and monopolies but when he danced Cha-cha his career indeed so was the pursuit to dismantle the oligarchs ,” he quipped.

Listening to my professor, a despondent and desperate side of me that desires for change in this country thought of radical change as not limited to bloodless revolts. But having been taught to value humanity and fear of the Almighty, I decided that it is best to leave bloody thoughts within the confines of the cerebrum. Nevertheless, I may not become a radical change agent in this lifetime but I am trying to live out words of Mahatma Gandhi when he proclaimed: “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Thus, I will take part in a ballot next month.

Truly, my vote is just a pebble cast into a vast ocean. Alone, it won’t create a ripple. But it makes up the millions who decide that effecting change in this country affords no more delay. And isn’t it that it “only takes one man to do nothing for evil to triumph?” For anything, if there’s only one reason that I need to vote in this year’s election, it is to squeeze out my psyche any drop of hopelessness for the “Pearl of the Orient Seas.” I believe that there are more people teeming with hope in this country who may have just been waiting for the perfect moment to unleash it from their heart and make it come alive. May 14, 2007 can be just that moment.

After all, giving witness to hope, which is one of the amazing gifts given to humankind, is the essence of Jesus’ Resurrection. It lives on as long as it takes when every Filipino decides that his or her vote does matter. To vote is a stride taken by millions upon millions towards the fulfillment of the collective desired change. It stands to take the whole nation to a path embraced by sunshine. Once we get there, then we’d know that it’s Good Friday no more.

Fight or Flight

2006-08-31T10:22:00.000+08:00

Life is a seed of dichotomies--of good and evil; of beautiful and ugly; of euphoria and melancholia; of love and apathy. So that, every second of your lifetime you are conftronted with two choices. You are naturally forced to take side. Whatever your choice is, one leads to life; the other to death.

Case in point. When faced with a dilemma, you find yourself standing on a fork in the road bewildered over which route to take: FIGHT or FLIGHT.

Most people tought of taking a FLIGHT as the easier path. To FIGHT is a road to perdition, thus a less-travelled one.

Some oiled people travel around the world to run away from their problems. Sometimes, they do space travel when they wanted more air. Other people spend money they don't earn to buy things they don't need to please people they don't like (one of these people is himself or herself).

When money does not come handy, some people go up the mountain and hide in the caves. The whole idea is to be incommunicado from the rest of the world. (Later on, they decide to come out and proclaim to the world their new fashion statement.)

In my case, when the sailing gets rough I go for "inner self-torture." I fight. I face my enemy, seen or unseen, squarely. I fight and struggle to wring off the evil's ugly head. I bleed, I get cuts and bruises in the process. No pain is ever more painful than the invisible sting that comes with fighting for what I believe is the truth. Superman has found an ally in me when he proclaims: "no pain, no gain". It pays to stand up for the truth. There is nothing more liberating than setting oneself free from the bondage of "what ifs" and "buts". I don't rest my case until all sides are heard, understood and valued, until everything that lurks in the dark is brought to light.

In the battlefield, victory is only achieved when both camps decide to raise the banner of peace.

In love, the lovers need to fight for their love. The relationship is going nowhere if one fights and the other takes a flight.

So, if you happen to be the flighty type, here's my one cent: Don't just give up , baby. 'Coz love never fails.

Why I Am Not Spending A Cent For The Da Vinci Code Movie

2006-05-30T13:51:00.000+08:00

It’s not that the cost of a movie theater pass these days can feed two hungry street children and put a huge smile on their mucky-faces.

It’s not that the unconformist in me would just try to go against the tide sweeping over 40 million people worldwide who have buried their noses on the Brownish book. It’s not that I don’t admire the acting qualities of Tom Hanks; in fact I consider him as one of the exceptional actors of all time.

It's simple. The means never justifies the end. That’s the very reason that I will never spend a cent for Dan Brown’s work of art. Brown has amassed wealth at the expense of distorting other people’s image of God, of attacking my faith in Jesus Christ who is my Lord and Savior. For me, that’s a glaring violation of God’s commandment: “Thou shalt not put the name of the Lord they God in vain.”

Ron Howard, the film director said the movie was made merely "to entertain". If Jesus Christ were here, I suspect He will utter the same prayer He said while nailed on the cross: "Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing."

If the Da Vinci Code were created out of other religion, they will surely make their stance agonizingly clear.

I am blissful to be a Catholic Christian and this gives Brown a lot more reason to be happy. I don’t have to slash his face for portraying that Jesus Christ was not an immortal God. I have been taught to forgive and have compassion.

Capitalizing on proving that Jesus Christ and St. Mary Magdalene have a child is an offense more than literally turning the image of the former into a cartoon strip. It’s simply blasphemous.

I am offended. And I have all the reasons to feel that way.

(Published @ Sunstar. Cebu (Speak Out).June 2, 2006. "I Snubbed Da Vinci Code". All Rights Reserved.)

Dark night of the Soul

2006-03-09T10:06:00.000+08:00

One thing bothers me for a quite a time now. It's like a bug that gnaws the inner circuits of my existence. It wants to prowl its wings to measure up its worth only to be caught by the cobwebs of doubt rooted in the bones of darkness.

Sometimes, life puts you in a helpless situation. Then you start to sense your fallibility, your mortality; your nothingness. And you realize that the power within you has a corporeal life of its own; it doesn't have to exist as you do. Sometimes, it's long been dead, buriend inside a frame which utility has been reduced to waiting for its annihilation.

But just as when you see that all scheme of things is a starless night, a tiny streak of light flicker from an infinite distance.

I hate blogging because...

2006-02-27T10:42:00.000+08:00

Waxing random thoughts is one thing that keeps my sanity (well, if I have it?) intact. And since I happen to belong to i-Generation, blog spheres such as this readily come to arrest exploding gray matter . But this kind of unloading is not just something which makes you sing "ang gaan-gaan ng feeling". Conversely, it is a near-death experience. Part of the self dies when the internal dynamics of what it is to be human are enfleshed into words and made public. In the case of the latter, such dying is intensified. When you publish your thoughts, you allow others to pry on the things that dwell on the recesses of your soul and provide them a glimpse of what you are made of . Your so-called privacy is lost. That's why: I hate blogging*%#@!

But someone's just too late a hero.

I am blogging because....

2006-02-20T16:11:00.000+08:00

I didn't want to wake up from a beautiful dream, but it's Monday and Sir Alarm Clock says it's time to drag my arse to work...

My mind is sleeping but I can see my body in my work station...

I am physically tired, I have an aching back (maybe crying because it's being taken away from its "crib") and I want to have a back rub...

Sleepyhead strikes again but I had to buy my bread and butter...

I am bored watching the same world go by...

I just want to gaze at a blank wall without batting an eyelash but I just can't without giving my colleagues a hint to bring me to a shrink...

I just can't do anything worthwhile at the minute, Ms. Gray Matter is taking an absence without leave (maybe on space travel)...

I want to swirl nosedive and sommersault in between to wake me up inside but office decorum says I just can't...

Well, I can go on and on and on....

But don't I have enough reasons not to blog?

Steep mountain

2005-07-20T18:21:00.000+08:00

I have the tendency to finish what I started, come hell or high water. I don't know if I'm like a horse with blinders on the side, or have the blinders already covered my eyes that I get blinded of things that really matter.

Anyway, all I wanted to yak about now is the prospect of immersing myself to an ardouos back-breaking task of research to finish the master's degree that I started almost five years ago. Just the mere thought of ransacking the shelves for dusty books in the library already makes me nauseated. Geeshh, I can't imagine spending hours, days or months in that cold, lonely place that is enveloped with an air of intellectual nerdness.

I just can't do it! Here's the loser in me taking center stage. Waaahhhhhhh

Flabbergasted

2005-07-12T18:37:00.001+08:00

Packaged with a limited vocabulary and an enemy of prepositions, I have never considered myself a writer, much less a good writer! I still have so much to learn about the English language or I still have to eat truckloads of rice before I can explain what supercalifragilisticexpialidocious really mean. That’s why you just don’t know how flabbergasted I was, and still am when a real awesome writer, a much-revered magazine editor would suddenly want me to send him my articles!!! And he even went at asking me how come I had not sent a writeup for a long time, sayang daw! I had a few articles published in his magazine when he was not yet the editor. I thought those were published because the editor he replaced was a friend. “More power to your writing. Keep your pieces coming. You've got what it takes to write more and more. God bless...!” were his final messages to me in one encounter. Whoa, was I floored! Did I win a multi-million lotto jackpot? Tell meeehhhh!!!!

Worshipping Brad Pitt

2005-06-10T14:03:00.000+08:00

Watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith (topbilled by Brad Bitt and Angelina Jolie) with cool girlfriends --Yani and Rhea the other night. I’d never been interested on the plot of the flick. Aside from enjoying girl-talk, the very reason that I dragged myself to the theater and paid a jaw-dropping P110 (the amount that I could have spared for the Children’s Hour) for the kill is to drool (ooops…) at a sight of a lovely piece of art called Brad Pitt. How can there be a sinfully scenic sight like that?! To me, he will always be the sexiest man (alive or dead) on Earth. Lol!

Alright. Brad Pitt might be the “most beautiful mark” my keen eye for beauty would ever see, I’ve never dreamt of marrying him (hahaha!), I mean, his kind. Sadly, I just don’t want to end up a Jennifer Aniston nor an Angelina Jolie (and the naming continues?)....

of photography and violence

2005-06-09T09:19:00.000+08:00

I had an exciting basic photography lesson with Boss RBL lately. I thought taking pictures was just all that-- peeping through a lens, aiming the target and click!

I would have never understood that there are such mammals called F/stop (an insect that would determine the size of aperture or the amount of light needed or something like that), Shutterspeed (the amount of movement of the shutter that you desire depending on the subject or something like that), Flash (when to use and not to use it), Rule of Thirds (in framing subject) and Stealing (which is not a crime).

And there is also decorum in holding the camera while on the act of shooting photos. The general rule is to ensure that you don't appear more choreographed or emote than the subjects of the shoot, otherwise you have to decide to reverse roles or change career at once.

First, Tristan, my only classmate, and I studied the use of a still camera, then a digital camera a bit later. In the workshop, we took pictures and then critiqued what’s wrong with the shots taken. There were also a little experimentation on getting some effects and adding drama to the subject like forced perception.

The use of technology like computer softwares in editing photos has given photographers, especially the neophytes, a huge privilege to correct errors in the take. For instance, the cropping tool allows the misframed photos to become Rule-of-Thirds compliant.

Now this tool also proves to be useful in accomplishing “virtual crimes”. Like if you wish to get back on someone who did wrong to you and thought of slowly decapitating or amputating the subject of your wrath without having to face an attempted murder trial, you just have to secure some of the target’s photos and cut whatever parts of his/her body to your satisfaction.

Little did I realize that photography can be a bloodless, seamless, slick form of revenge.

Lol!!!

50 words (or so) of the night…

2005-06-06T09:18:00.000+08:00

03 June 2005

Friday. Flyday. Colleagues. Grand Convention. Marissa. Plaque. Dinner. LOLs. Touch Move. Black&White. Maryvel. Photoshoot. Toothpick. Emote Galore. Pfizer. Geoplan. Tristan.Free food. Four Seasons. Fried Rice. RBL. Pink. Fruit Salad.Gobblers. Tuxedo. GIS. Clappers. Speech. Summer Tales. Escapade. Rose.Big Apple. Audience. Bryan. Underwater. SCUBA. NASA. Boss. Party. Lotlot. Dancefloor. Riot. Margarita. Showdown. Emelyn (aka Gamay). 80's. Live Band. Cocktails. VIP Card. Hiphop. Gerard. Generations A-Z. Gollum. Cab.

I believe...

2005-05-24T07:45:00.000+08:00

A good friend sent this to me and I thought it's worth keeping, because I too believe...

- that we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I believe- that no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.

I believe- that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.

I believe- that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I believe- that it's taking me a long time to become the person I want tobe.

I believe- that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It maybe the last time you see them.

I believe- that you can keep going long after you can't.

I believe- that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I believe- that either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I believe- that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first,the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.

I believe- that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when itneeds to be done, regardless of the consequences.

I believe- that money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I believe- that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

I believe- that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you'redown, will be the ones to help you get back up.

I believe- that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I believe- that just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.

I believe- that maturity has more to do with what types of experiencesyou've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

I believe- that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I believe- that no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe- that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I believe- that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don'tlove each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe- that you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It couldchange your life forever.

I believe- that two people can look at the exact same thing and seesomething totally different.

I believe- that your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don't even know you.

I believe- that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.

I believe- that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent humanbeing.

I believe- that the people you care about most in life are taken from youtoo soon.

Walking with a goddess named Lu-Ann

2005-04-26T15:33:00.001+08:00

Lu-Ann, the fairest of goddesses that I’ve ever known is leaving for Brisbane today. My heart sank, I didn’t know she’s leaving too soon.

Lu-Ann is a new-found friend from Down Under. A mixed brand between a Filipino-Chinese mother and a full-blooded Spanish father, she perfectly looks like a clone of who else but me. Joke! The truth is we’re both drop dead gorgeous: I look dead, she’s gorgeous.

Let her trudge the streets and you see necks craning and heads twisting just to worship her.

We hang out together just a few times not long before but we easily hit it off as “beacchy sistahz.”

I have the hard time decoding the “Haleerr” accent. She has the patience to act like a parrot for me, repeating every single word that made up every sentence that she’d blow into my eardrums. I call it a language barrier. She calls it a hearing problem.

A certified shopping addict, she crashes into the mall like a daily habit terrorizing every shop that plies with fashion accessories, bling blings, jewelry, bags, shoes, clothes and a lot more of kikay stuffs.

Mention of a shop that sells chocolate cake and she’ll get there in a flash. One time, we made a stop in a café that is famous for choco desserts. In between gobbles, we babbled everything about chocolate and the 5 million and one boyfriends she’s got (“ssshhh, don’t tell Momma,” his hazel brown eyes warned me). Funny, how stories aplenty can be told about chocs and boys.

Now that she’s heading for home sweet home, I just wish her all the best. OK, I will surely miss her but I know she’ll miss me more.

Breaking Into Dance

2005-04-26T11:01:00.000+08:00

It’s summer! And I’d been gearing up to embrace it with reckless abandon. For someone like me who loves to do lots of (crazy) things all together most of the time, summer is the most relaxing part of the year. Or so I thought, not until I joined a dance workshop.

Over the weekend, I signed up for a two-day dance workshop with The Manouvers. Jason Zamora and Jon Supan (of The Manouvers) , together with US-trained professional dancers Chennie and Mabel taught us the foundation of hip-hop or locally known as street dance. Viola, only then I learned that hip-hop is just a hodgepodge of ancient moves like strut, funky and break dance!

“Are you sure you wanna do it?” I told myself. “Why not?” said the half of me. I think I have a fighting spirit that my body doesn’t understand.

I love to dance, no doubt about it. My solo dance performances, apart from the group presentations some of which I choreographed, in every Christmas or induction party I had in my elementary and high school classes can prove it. Looking back now, I wonder aloud how my classmates never launched a protest for seeing me dance in every class party we had; maybe because they saw me as an authoritarian class president. But who cares, I had fun.

But hey, dancing is not just about having fun, I learned from the workshop. It requires discipline and a lot of practice. I realized I don’t have the luxury of both, for now.

Nevertheless, more than anything else, I learned that DANCE means Decision, Action, No Compromise, Commitment and Excellence.

So I tried to strut my funky way until I broke my bones into dance. Literally, that’s hip-hop. My way. Urrghh?*&^%@!!!

Summer Fire!

2005-04-12T15:56:00.000+08:00

i was in a middle of conversation with a long-lost friend who visited me at work when suddenly a colleague came out of the door behind me and shouted "there's fire in the neighborhood!" i was terrified not by his breaking news but by the way his lines pierced my eardrum... i went outside to check things out and true enough a black smoke billowed just above some structures which are a stone's throw away from our office...

that was about 4.30- p.m. (11 april 2005)

shortly, sounds of wailing sirens, of traffic cops' whistles, of honking cars, of raging fire and the shouts of victims and the cries of children dominated the airwaves while curious onlookers started to mill around the fire scene...

with the presence of international consultants and volunteers in our workplace, the scene of multi-colored people helping one another hauling computers, printers, books, files and everything their adrenaline can muster looks like a magazine feature story that had this title: "Filipino bayanihan goes international"

while everybody else was in frenzy, i went back inside and picked up my purse and two envelopes of personal files including photos (which I guess are one of life's valuable possessions), then i went out for safety..

i thought it was weird because i never did panic nor felt some surge of adrenaline; (maybe my exposure to a number of shocking realities, thanks to my stint as a news reporter, had something to do with it) there was something in my gut telling me that our edifice would be spared... i had all the presence of mind to utter a little prayer for the fire to stop, that no limbs and lives would be wasted...

and God heard my prayer....

on Spanglish

2005-04-11T14:29:00.000+08:00

the movie may appear so simple as it depicts everyday-life of a family, but there are a number of insights that can be drawn from it...

here are a few :

lesson #1: a mother would rather die so her child may live

lesson #2: language difference is not much of a barrier if you have a translator

lesson #3: a monotonous almost involuntary day-to-day activity such as lying on a bed or stepping on the floor sometimes demand a very difficult, life-changing decision making process

lesson #4: sometimes an analogy such as floor:working brain or bed:damaged brain makes SENSE (go figure!)

lesson #5: for a child, 5 cents is 5 cents

lesson #6: guilt has a Spanish equivalent

2005-03-07T17:56:00.000+08:00

Of men and chasing skirts (Part 2)

If women, attractive or otherwise, love to be chased, count me in. It's not because women are simply mean or playing hard to get. It doesn't take a genius of a man to tell if she does so. They just buy time. Unfortunately, buying time is not men’s business. Well, as I see it. In this day and age.

Most women I know need time to get to know the person better. They get the feel of the water first before taking a plunge. While a number of men I encounter immediately wants to take that plunge only to find out that the water is burning hot and want to snap out of it in a heartbeat.
If she decides to go out with him on a date or two, he's assured of some degree of likeness, if not attraction, from her. But stop being a high-jumping hysteric, dude. It doesn't mean you have already completely won her. Not just as yet. Unfortunately, some guys would think this way too soon. And when the reality dawns on him, whalla--a romantic drifter is born (or is it burned?)!

I can’t seem to find a convincing reason why a lot of men are always on the rush of winning a woman’s heart. Wise men say only fools rush in, so a song goes. Does it have to do with social acceptability? Macho culture? Or is it sexual fever? I wouldn’t know.

There’s one reason I know, though.
In this swirling world of instant coffee and noodles, a drifter's life is just as short-lived as batting an eyelash -- the moment you open your eyes, he's already in a table next to you sipping coffee with “another” dream girl. And the only thing you can do for the time being is wish him the best of luck, hoping that his antics work this time. But you see, this is not really something back-breaking, talk about the glaring statistics of women outnumbering men. Banking on such a phenomenon, some men can always find a way to abuse their “homecourt advantage”— throwing easily grandpa’s trusty virtues of patience, persistence and perseverance out of the window. And this leaves many women especially those who are riding the bandwagon of “Generation Instant” to settle for less.

If there’s one “general” characteristic that is annoying about skirt-chasing drifters, it is their inability to forge a platonic friendship with the once-object of their affectionate gaze . Put any innocent femme in this scenario and a cry for justice can’t be helped. For a man to put women in a box-- girlfriend or nothing-- is plain sinful. Worse, to swear at her as a “woman with a heart of stone” or an “enemy of the State” is gross.

Now the drifter ceases to be one, but the question is: “Is he getting the kind of woman that he’s ever wanted?” But should he doesn’t want to settle for the best, is his’ to keep. Anyway.

In my book, men don’t have to be a Brad Pitt to succeed on attractive sensible women. But this is another story.

Published in Sunstar Weekend Magazine as"Who's Chasing Skirts". August 6, 2005. All rights reserved)
http://www.sunstar.com.ph/weekend/index.html

pirated love story

2005-02-22T15:54:00.001+08:00

Yani said I had to share my "love story" now, otherwise I will not be able to make a real one ever, at all. So meantime, here's My (Pirated) Love Story. Thanks to http://www.love.2loop.com.

----------------------
A LLLOVE STORY ...STORY ...STORY...STORY (Now, you know when something is pirated!..lol!)

One dazzling summer day at Boracay Island you see the most incredible creature you have ever seen. His name is Sean, and every move he makes just turns you on more and more. You nudge your best friend Yani and say, "Wow, that has to be the most wonderful body I have ever seen." Suddenly, he looks in your direction and starts walking right towards you!!! he says, "I noticed you staring at me from over there. I just had to tell you, that I think you are so
fantastic , and was wondering if you'd like to go to Milky Way with me and dance ?"

With a stupid smile on your face you say, " Cool " and go with them. When you finally get toMilky Way , he moves closer to you, and gives you the biggest kiss ever. The two of you are passionately kissing, when you feel a star hit you on the back of the head. You open your eyes to find out it's all a dream, but there is a note left next to your bed. It reads:

"Sean is the love you've been waiting your whole life for. He will ask you out in 3 days or less, but only if you send this e-mail to at least 10 people within the next few minutes. The more people you send it to, the sooner they will ask you out, and you both fall in love. Do not take this lightly, because if you simply ignore this, you will have bad luck in love for the next
3 years!"

Hmmnn...we'll see......

Yuletide thoughts

2004-12-23T18:23:00.000+08:00

It's in this time of the year that I found myself in two (2) extreme emotions: euphoria and melancholy. It is heartwarming to see people exhange Yuletide greetings and gifts with happy faces. You see people's generosity overflowing especially to those who are less privileged. Christmas songs fill the cool air. Yet amidst all these glitters, i can't help but feel down because the real meaning of the Season is not something that you can see or hear.

what a waste?#@$!

2004-12-15T11:14:00.000+08:00

I’ve never thought some supposedly intelligent guys can be that boring (ouch!). For instance, take this guy who can talk all about himself for hours and at a speed of 87 words per minute: his sports routine, diet, women she dated, how he almost got married, how much he wanted to own a car to get more dates (Hello, he might as well buy a car who knows how to ask a girl out). It just made me wonder if ever this guy knows that a sentence doesn’t have to start with “I” all the time. If I were to suggest how he could make money (if ever it could) out of narcissism, he might as well own, produce, direct and star his own TV show and named it “All About Me” if not, create a movie: “How To Lose A Girl In 10 Seconds.”

Oh well, this is a sad fact; a very, very sad one knowing that male population has been outnumbered by that of the female in scary proportion. While my first theory: “All good-looking guys are either gay or married” is gaining ground, here comes another theory--- “Some intelligent good-looking guys are better off keeping their intelligence and good looks with themselves.”

Celebrating Christmas....

2004-12-14T14:41:00.000+08:00

I think there is no better way of celebrating Christmas than with the children. Christmas is for children, I guess.

Over the weekend, I had the chance of taking my time off with over 50 children, who -- if not attending Saturday Cathechism classes that my organization have been conducting for the past three years now--are in the streets peddling fruits, cigarettes, candies and other goodies. (Sadly, some of these kids were pushing drugs for some unscrupulous grown-ups.)

Thanks to some people with generous hearts, we were able to treat the children dinner, play with them, showcase thier talents in singing, dancing and poetry; and most of all, give them a couple of gifts to their heart's delight.

Yeah, what the children's tiny hands had carried on the way home may just wear out and perish soon. But we hope the daylong affair of being cared for and given importance by their Kuyas and Ates, familiar or not, was something that will forever stay in their hearts.

And I guess, Christmas is for the children-at-heart, too. Because I enjoyed the event, perhaps more than the kids did.

unplugged

2004-12-10T09:13:00.000+08:00

whew, i can't believe i haven't been bloggin' for 48 years already, thanks to the toxic urban life... anyhow, nothing earth-shattering changes have happened in my life in that hiatus.. though, i was able to wax an article in between my psychedelic moments; and thank God, it saw print in a Cebu weekend mag..

here it is....

Inhibitions Not Included
By Roslyn D. Tambago

Living in a grown-up world can be a letdown. Damn all that social etiquette, ethics, norms and what have you, attached to whatever is "social." Hey, don’t these often foil the triumph of what they call the freewheeling, passionate human spirit? Urrgh!
But who says it's not fun to be a grown-up? Well, you just have to be with the right people, at the right time.

One day I found myself amidst a bunch of promising writers and cartoonists flocking together for a comics workshop. And they were younger than the twenty-something me, save for the visiting resource speakers.

Suddenly, I felt out of place. Anyhow, I was able to resist the temptation of pushing the imaginary self-eject button. I decided to go on with the three-day affair and appointed myself as a tacit spectator on top of the official designation as participant. I guessed I would be better off with the former.

The first day brought us into mute mode, except of course, for the speakers who took turns in sharing with us the effectiveness of comics in social advocacies, the history of comics, among other significant topics.

Call it putting-the-best-foot-forward day. Even then, I found the stillness bizarre for these male-dominated youngsters whose looks can easily pass for members of some rock band. Bite me, but you know how rock stars can be raucous. There was a Bob Marley look-a-like, a Bon Jovi, a Bono, even an Eddie Gil (for lack of analogy). The thought of how they care for their hair was mind-boggling. How often they shampoo their hair? Do they use a conditioner? Do they use a comb? Is that a wig?

On the second day the glacier started to give way. In between lectures on storyline making and scriptwriting, a waft of giggles from one side now would float from the other end shortly. Somehow, human connections began to weave.
Real skin slowly surfaced, too. A quick panning through the room revealed personalities that are as colorful as their outfits. Some looked like they just came from a pajama party or from a street-begging routine, one sat all day like a Yoga master , another posed a blank stare; still others doodled on a blank paper while some pairs engrossed themselves on occasional whispered conversations or hummed a favorite tune.

The third day was a social psychology case study in progress. Time to put into practice the learning we got from the past two days, we were set out in groups. We took the mission of creating a four-page comics of our chosen storyline. Each group had to go through the entire process of comics-making from brainstorming on the storyline down to the computer-aided coloring of illustrations.

Once the actual tasks began, the room instantly turned into an animated representation of authentic human behaviors (or was it resembling a psychiatric ward?).In the middle of writing scripts, someone would just stand up and strike a winning air-guitar pose, strum his ribs and belt out "Wake me up inside…call my name and save me from the dark…” In no time another one would take centerstage and initiate a gag show. Someone momentarily put his sketching pencil to rest and before you'd figure out the next move he already broke into dance. Soon there would be pop-up scenes of dancing, singing, somersaulting.

But nothing beats the panache of self-expression and the defiance of social grace when somebody in the midst of everyone released his gas only plants would love. Such biological sound and “aroma” was only met with cackles and instinctive breath suspension. The rolling-on-the-floor laughter was just endless.

Such scenes at any point never cost a thing to the speakers nor to the organizers; they were unmindful of the clatter and the outrageous celebration of freedom, so were we. No amount of superego formation lines of "don't do this, don't do that " could be heard from anybody. Everyone was allowed to be in their own little worlds. Everybody was his own person. The result: five comics representing five stories campaigning against illegal drugs and corruption.

To find myself in the same spot again would be the rarest of chances. However, my stopover in that world of the creative yet real, of the avant-garde yet down-to- earth and of human beings unplugged from social correctness is a recall that will always put a wide grin on my face.

(Published: Sunstar.Cebu. Weekend Magazine. November 20, 2004)

2004-10-22T16:45:00.000+08:00

When things just go in circles, become a vicious cycle and less interesting, procrastination seems to be the best option.

We wake up in the morning, rush to work, eat and sleep. The cycle continues as long as the air goes in and out of our lungs.

Life is like chasing the wind.

it's over!!!

2004-10-11T13:39:00.000+08:00

after months of sleepless nights and eyebugz, i finally decided to end a four-year (very intimate) relationship. yesterday: 3.15 p.m., October 10, 2004. we were imperfect beings but the times we had were just perfect; letting go of each other, i think would be the hardest decision i would ever make in this lifetime. sometimes, we have to give up some priceless possessions inorder to live a precious life ; we have to go beyond our comfort zones so others will be comforted....

by the way, i was talking about a long black hair that was cut for a cause.

on success...

2004-10-04T16:03:00.000+08:00

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to leave the world a little better; whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is the meaning of SUCCESS." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

good ol' friends...

2004-09-29T17:14:00.000+08:00

“make new friends but keep the old, one is silver the other is gold”

it’s always refreshing to see long-lost friends again…

yesterday , I bumped into my two ol’good-looking guy buddies whom I’d not seen for what, a century? Buddy1 is an MD with a toxic schedule balancing practice and studies with TV soap opera guestings and badminton tourneys; been based in Manila finishing up his fellowship chuchu in internal medicine… he’s in town and had three days to paint it red. Buddy2 is a gimikiro-turned-genius, now burying himself into loads of books, if not his fingers into the barren skin and bones of innocent cadavers, to keep up his top 7 slot in a reputable medical school … Body 3 , I mean Buddy3 (that’s me), does nothing but balancing between sanity and insanity….see how BUSY everybody is??? But being pre-occupied with so many things doesn’t mean though that there is no room for distractions, at least for positive distractions like going out for a date…

as the visiting UFO, Buddy1 called the shot of inviting me and Buddy2 for a dinner in a certain resto. being the most organized person (just schedule-wise) of the day, I set the time and negotiated for the change of venue. I had to catch a meeting afterwards. the negotiation took loads of text messages and arguments before the two gave in because they also had appointments, one had a badminton tourney to beat, the other had books waiting. In an emphatic manner I told them: gentlemen, my meeting concerns nation building! So they shut up and conceded.

So we ended up converging in a Chinese resto. there were only three of us but it seemed like we’re in a frenzied corporate meeting passionately debating over the question: “If you only have three strands of hair left on your scalp, which is better: have them grouped or scattered?” Geesh, everybody was screaming and blurted out 120 words per minute!!! ( I counted them.) Yes, there were just a thousand and one things to catch up with each other, and we just had barely an hour to do it!

between bites and ruckus LOLs, we managed to cover a wide range of topics from showbiz to politics, from sports to weddings, from beauty to madness, from hair to nails…

and before I knew it, I was almost an hour late to the meeting…dang! so I almost literally flew to the venue only to be met by a locked door making faces at me….

Now , that’s what I call LIFE!

on love

2004-09-28T16:27:00.000+08:00

this is cool....

"Love can make you HAPPY but often it hurts , but love's only special when you give it to someone who is really worth it. So TAKE your TIME and choose the best. Love isn't about becoming somebody else's "perfect person." It's about finding someone who helps you become the best person YOU can be. Never say "I love you" if you don't care. Never talk about feelings if they aren't there. Never touch a life if you mean to break a heart . "

So, when is the last time YOU say "I LOVE YOU" to someone and YOU MEAN IT?

d roadless travel....

2004-09-27T10:45:00.003+08:00

i first encountered this famous book by Scott Peck: The Road Less Travelled way back in college through my classmates who are majoring in Philosophy (it's their book report).. but i never had the chance to browse, much less read it judging from the bunch of thick-glassed brats who always carried it with them wherever they go, almost making it a fashion accessory. so i thought it's boring, surreal and too ethereal a read for someone who's trying to understand the dynamics of real people in a real environment. …now that I got the chance to get hold of it, I’ve been proven wrong…

as of this writing, am not yet through with it but this early I’ve been amazed at how wonderfully Peck relates mysterious concepts such as love, grace, discipline, religion and truth with d contemporary condition of human life based on his many years of experience as a clinical psychiatrist…

Peck calls for a life that is totally dedicated to the TrUTH …but I guess this is something hard…some people (including myself) that I know will do everything just to shun from it--- summoning reinterpretation, rationalization, regression, reflection and the rest of Mighty Defense Mechanism’s minions to the rescue… ”reality bites” so to speak but truth to tell, it’s only through facing reality that one tastes the sweetness of freedom…if only they could realize that! “escape from freedom” as Peck contends has been human’s favorite mantra…and it has been proven to be a potent source of our problems and miseries….

life is a matter of choice so is FREEdom…

is there such a thing as aBsOLuTE FReeDOM? now, that’s another blog, i guess...

2004-09-23T09:12:00.000+08:00

am sooo HAPPY a good friend of mine has finally met the man whom she wants to grow old with..she's ENGAGED!!! wowowwww!!!

cheers to an EVERLASTING BLISS and FRUITFUL UNION for Jingky and Seven....! God bless!

ala lang....

2004-09-22T08:31:00.000+08:00

it's not always that i like to doodle my thoughts...this is one of those moments--i call brain (if ever i have one, has to confer with my doctor yet) freeze: i am physically kicking but mentally sleeping...if i were elsewhere, not at work, i would have been zzzzing my way to the dreamland, where everything, everbody is FREE... but hey, am in a real world, where survival of the fittest (or is it fetish?)is the name of the game...whether i like it or not, i have to play the game..play it fair...play it cool....

ooops, got to go,i have to win the game...

of men and chasing skirts...

2004-09-21T11:44:00.000+08:00

if women (attractive or otherwise) loves to be chased, am on it. it's not because they're simply mean or playing hard to get (it doesn't take a genius to tell if she does so), they just buy time...

if she decides to go out with him on a date (or more), he's assured of some degree of attraction from her...but this doesn't mean he's already won her, unfortunately, some guys would think this way too soon...and when the reality dawns on him, whalla...a drifter is born (or is it burned?)! but u see, in this rapidly changing world of instant coffee and noodles, a drifter's life is just as short-lived as batting an eyelash-- the moment u open ur eyes he's in a table next to u sipping coffee...with "another" woman of his dreams..and the only thing u can do is wish him the best luck and hope that his antics work this time, which is not really something back-breaking 'coz all he needs is someone on his boat and there are a lot of them (talk about women outnumbering "boys", and i said boys)

my question is: are there still men with 3P's (read: patient, persistent and perseveing) these days???

just a weekend thing...

2004-09-20T11:47:00.000+08:00

Today is Monday and I want to start my day right…and that is by blogging…

My weekend was a blast…

Saturday. attended a talk by adrian ding and anthony pangilinan on “excellence in the workplace”…they shared a bunch of tips on how to live a life with purpose and a balanced life…what they said were not really new things but it’s good to be reminded about life’s basic things once in a while… in striking a balance between out professional life, relational life and personal life, it’s always the latter that is compromised the most…yes, we loved to dream, BIG dreams at that, but if we don’t take care of our physical self, at the least, forget about them because it is our BODY that will take us to our DREAMS – a fact, ironically, too obvious to be noticed…oh, by the way, I had to cut classes inorder to get myself to the seminar (sshhh..) , but it was a decision, (or demeanor?), I didn’t regret coz that’s one of the things I would later learn from it: “I’ve got to learn to say ‘NO’ to honor my ‘YESes’

Sunday. oh, it was a body-care day! after attending church, I, together with girlfriends yani and rhea went for some soothing back rub and facial touch to say goodbye to the previous week’s stresses.. after over an hour we stepped off the health club feeling light and fresh amidst the kiss of the afternoon sun and decided…it’s time for a mouth exercise! …so we had some pizza and iced tea…. burp…ooopps.. it’s time to go for the weekend ritual---- MOVIES!!! We’re sooo lucky to chance upon the last leg of the 3-day Cine Europa (europian film festival ) at SM City Cenimas…our eyes feasted on Czech’s award winning film—Divided We Fall…the flick happened in a Czech town occupied by Nazis (late 1940’s, toward the end of WW II) where a childless couple came across a young Jewish man named David and kept him in a pantry for years. It’s a dramatic film with a twist of black comedy about fighting for survival…between 1 and 10, I give it a 9!!!

Enough of the psychedelic limbo…it’s time to deal with the real world…

Musings

2004-09-17T08:57:00.000+08:00

yesterday (sept. 16) i had d chance to listen to a sharing by a Canada-based Filipino teacher (a cebuana at that)of children with special needs..her name is gemma labitan..she's been teaching in ontario for over 20 years..her dedication to her teaching profession is so overwhelming and i admired her for that.. she surpassed with grace all d difficulties that anyone could experience being in a whole new environment-- d loneliness, d culture shock, d cold weather, not to mention having to deal with special children and their parents from different races.. what's very striking to me in her sharing was her ability to turn against the tide of life's lowest moments..what would lift her up again is when she goes back to herself and comes to term with her identity, dignity and passion.. for her, in times like that it's just a matter of probing "Who am I?" quoting parker palmer, she said that a good teacher gives hearts to the students...teaching is a vocation and vocation is not a goal to achieve but a gift to receive ..teaching is a gift...

wish to receive such gift soon...

Global Warning

2004-09-16T12:18:00.001+08:00

Welcome to mah world! You are entering a high-risk domain. All the postings here are an expose of an esoteric psyche, thus any guidance (parental or otherwise) is required. However, an LOL will keep you from trouble.

Uhhaaa...!!!

2004-09-16T12:18:00.000+08:00

Uhhhaa...the first word (or is it sound? whatevah) i uttered when i came into this world, mah mommah said.. i didn't know what it meant but i guess it was mah innocent response when the midwife hit mah ass with bizzare reasons God knows what..

it wasn't d last time i had it though..as days (months, years) go by it took different variations (e.g. silent uhhaa, euphoric uhha...hysterical uhhaa, tearless uhhaa, among others)depending on d occasion and d reason... but this is another blog...

all i wanna say here is uhhaaa... which means WELCOME...welcome to mah world...

and i would be forever grateful to Yani for introducing me to Chona (http://chona.blogspot.com), who inspired me to be in this site...