Every obsessive-compulsive person should have his or her own mini paper shredder. Mine even has my name and contact nos. for just in case, I, um, misplace it at home.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Meet Auring.
Every obsessive-compulsive person should have his or her own mini paper shredder. Mine even has my name and contact nos. for just in case, I, um, misplace it at home.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong!
God, I’m high on the SEA Games. Our athletes are phenomenal. They possess the spirit of lions--brave, persevering, and noble even in the face of inadequate support and antiquated training equipment and facilities. They fight on, laban lang nang laban, for the country’s glory. As early as now, the medals are trickling in; the home crowd doing wonders in encouraging them to give their all.
I admire the Philippine athlete!
. . . . . . . .
On the same note, let me just say that I just love the new Globe commercial for the SEA Games. Sung by Rico Blanco of Rivermaya, the lyrics are full of rousing patriotism:
"Posible kayang labanan ang agos ng paghamon?
Mabuwal at madapa man, sabay tayong aahon.
Posible kayang mabura ang alinlangan sa sarili?
Ang tapang sa loob makikita. Taglay mo ang dugong bayani! "Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong. Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong. Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Posible!
"Posible kayang matikman tamis ng gintong minimithi?
Sa kagat ng bawat laban magtatagumpay kang muli!
"Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong. Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Posible!
Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong. Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Posible!
"Sulong, laban, 'wag uurong. Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Posible!
Sulong, laban, Pilipino! Pakinggan sa 'yong puso ang sigaw na dati'y bulong.
Posible! (3x)."
Monday, November 21, 2005
Dear friend,
Ian Casocot and Jun Lisondra provided a link to me in their wonderful blogs and just like that, I've been introduced to the blogging world. I'm grateful if, a bit, unworthy. It's nice having friends. Ian--a multi-awarded writer, teacher, performance artist, stage director, photographer, and film buff--and I met seven years ago. We met through letters, introduced to each other by a beautiful friend who thought we should know of each other's existence. He was just Ian then, oh, but he was already someone of note--a journalist and well-traveled scholar--but to me he was just Ian, the nice guy. Over the years we've managed to stay in touch through e-mail and his blogs. Through the years he has managed to remain a nice guy. He invites me to make written contributions to some of his projects. He publishes my work, often side-by-side, with well-known writers and, of course, this thrills me to no end. He, single-handedly, put me on the WWW map, my name next to Zoilo Galang, in a roster of Philippine writers--great company, indeed!
Jun, a writer, photographer, researcher/computer guy, multimedia and performance artist, guru and future porn star, whom I met also seven years ago, was hardly the nice guy. We fought with, irritated, and amused each other and our banters had always been playful, even rowdy, but always truthful. I was not afraid to be my horrid self with him. I could cuss, talk of the most abysmal things, and still feel safe in our friendship. We have gotten into the habit of sending each other gifts--books, music cds--things we think the other would like. He also promotes me in his Web sites and critiques some of my written works. Since becoming a student and practitioner of pranic healing, he even conducted remote healing sessions with me and they made me feel better, honestly. The thought alone of having someone concerned about my health, concerned about helping me get well, was enough to put me in a more positive frame of mind. The heart and mind welcomed the possibility of becoming healed and the body followed.
It is nice having friends. Not for any utilitarian reason, not because they're there to use, but because without having to say a word, they already know what you need and how to make you happy. I read somewhere that a friend is a recognition of your soul in another. He comes into your life not by accident, but by God's design. He is a gift, a treasure. I, therefore, thank the universe for gifting me with an Ian and a Jun who are good friends--quality friends.
Ian Casocot and Jun Lisondra provided a link to me in their wonderful blogs and just like that, I've been introduced to the blogging world. I'm grateful if, a bit, unworthy. It's nice having friends. Ian--a multi-awarded writer, teacher, performance artist, stage director, photographer, and film buff--and I met seven years ago. We met through letters, introduced to each other by a beautiful friend who thought we should know of each other's existence. He was just Ian then, oh, but he was already someone of note--a journalist and well-traveled scholar--but to me he was just Ian, the nice guy. Over the years we've managed to stay in touch through e-mail and his blogs. Through the years he has managed to remain a nice guy. He invites me to make written contributions to some of his projects. He publishes my work, often side-by-side, with well-known writers and, of course, this thrills me to no end. He, single-handedly, put me on the WWW map, my name next to Zoilo Galang, in a roster of Philippine writers--great company, indeed!
Jun, a writer, photographer, researcher/computer guy, multimedia and performance artist, guru and future porn star, whom I met also seven years ago, was hardly the nice guy. We fought with, irritated, and amused each other and our banters had always been playful, even rowdy, but always truthful. I was not afraid to be my horrid self with him. I could cuss, talk of the most abysmal things, and still feel safe in our friendship. We have gotten into the habit of sending each other gifts--books, music cds--things we think the other would like. He also promotes me in his Web sites and critiques some of my written works. Since becoming a student and practitioner of pranic healing, he even conducted remote healing sessions with me and they made me feel better, honestly. The thought alone of having someone concerned about my health, concerned about helping me get well, was enough to put me in a more positive frame of mind. The heart and mind welcomed the possibility of becoming healed and the body followed.
It is nice having friends. Not for any utilitarian reason, not because they're there to use, but because without having to say a word, they already know what you need and how to make you happy. I read somewhere that a friend is a recognition of your soul in another. He comes into your life not by accident, but by God's design. He is a gift, a treasure. I, therefore, thank the universe for gifting me with an Ian and a Jun who are good friends--quality friends.
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Dear friend,
Yesterday, around noon, I took a pause from what I was doing to grab a bite and stretch my legs. The gentle November sun was at its zenith and it covered the quiet neighborhood in light reminiscent of an Amorsolo painting. I smiled, grabbed a bottle of cashew nuts from the pantry, and went back to work. Sitting with my back to an open window, I felt the sun's silken caress on my nape and shoulders. I bit into a cashew nut and it felt like biting into one of those perfect summer days of old.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Sunday, October 16, 2005
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Sunday, August 21, 2005
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