I’m conducting a major blog clean up. Not a make-over though. But a quick dusting off of my old and irrelevant entries. I’d probably retain the useful (I think) ones. Nobody’s reading these anyways. And these are items i’d be personally archiving so when the need arises, I’d be ready to post it again. But sadly, I don’t think that that time will come. Cause they’re meant to be forgotten. Forgiven. Past.
Today’s Accounts: Warning! Not A Diary.
In random order
——————-
Was driving to pick Gayle up from work. I tagged Robynn along.
Robynn: “Di ba I cried YESTERDAY because I have zugat?”
Dad: “Baka you mean THIS AFTERNOON… kanina. Yesterday is the day before today. You fell di ba? It happened today late this aft…”
Robynn: “Don’t talk. Just drive.”
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
Been rummaging through my old clothes. Some are still useable. Some are booked for charity.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
Cooked a simple chicken liver adobo for dinner. Didn’t match the rice prepared by the katu though. Too porridge-like.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
I could use some quality time with my two guitars. It felt like they’re just staring at me, saying: “Don’t you miss us, Master?”
I do.
Today, Lord…
Thank You that You take an interest in Your children’s growth and development as people. Please show me ways to grow and who can help me, and who I can help in return.
Leaders and Followers
I haven’t decided yet who to vote for this coming election. Call me picky, but this time, I want to be careful in choosing a national leader. Even if he doesn’t win, at least it will be clear in my mind that I have made a smart choice. My vote wouldn’t be perfect nor my choice be infallible. It wouldn’t even be significant, but by God’s grace, it will be a holy one.
On that side note, I came across a photo of the Presidentiables sitting side by side on facebook (apparently posted by a Pro-Gibo), where Noynoy was caught stealing a nap, ( check it here: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3827008&id=573864054 ) or just with his eyes closed. I don’t know. I can’t tell. If this is a video and proved that he was really asleep, I would have called the man impolite or many other antagonistic adjectives.
Still photos like this, as they say, paint a thousand words. And yes, I guess “incompetence” ( just quoting the “poster” ) is indeed one of them. What about the rest of the thousand other words? What about the words “blink” or “flash” or “glare” that causes anybody to shut eyelids. Don’t those qualify?
Lahat ba ng pictures mo, printed man o digital, eh lahat NAKAMULAT??
I’m a photo enthusiast myself. I love to catch unguarded moments: People caught with their mouths open, or with tongues sticking out, or the blank stares, or the most popular one… with EYES CLOSED. But to tell stories and base my judgment on what they can, cannot do or have already done, using these photos is utter absurdity.
Come on mister Pro-Gibo, you can do better than that! It kinda looks and feels cheap for a brilliant leader like Gibo to have a supporter who is passing negative judgment basing on preposterous photos. My bet is, Gibo Teodoro himself would berate these comments had he known such a post exist.
Just so you know, I look up to Gibo and other Presidentiables. Like I said, I haven’t got a candidate in mind yet. Not even Noynoy. But whoever I’m gonna choose, rest assured that I will support him all the way even after the elections. I will not devalue any candidate’s reputation by any means. Who knows? The candidate you’re mocking today, might be the next President of the country you’re making fun of. When that time comes, be ready to sign up for an Anger Management therapy.
Friends, this I believe: Our government is not only in search of a good leader but also good followers.
“Susie”
We never really “caught” it. At least we never intended to. It must have fell from somewhere the 3rd floor roof and landed on our enclosed patio. Saw it from inside through the sliding glass door, trying to briskly flap its tiny wings but was unable to achieve even a 2-feet-high flight. I decided to help it. It took a little struggle and tip-overs to grab the poor thing. Man, this creature sure is fast for a nestling.
I showed it to Robynn. And boy, she can’t stop saying: “Aaaawww, cute-cute!”. Took a small laundry basket and used it as a temporary cage and served it a little drink. Our little girl had a brief bonding moment with the flightless, scared chick. We agreed to set it free later. On the top floor I opened the window, and after several minutes of goodbyes, I finally released it. Robynn was happy to let go.
Couple of hours later, I thought I saw something moved in the patio’s dark corner. Something small, agile and.. WINGED! It’s the juvenile maya again!! Back from where I first found her. She must’ve attempted to take off again from where I released her, over-estimated her wingspan and touched down right on the very same spot.
For now, the patio is her home until she has trained her wings well. With feline creatures prowling the neighborhood, it’s not safe for a bite-size fowl to go chirping around looking for parents.
Don’t you worry about food, my little friend. You won’t starve. (Matthew 6:26)
I guess by now, you probably know what Robynn named her.
Mind Dump #2
When you take things easy, it’s mediocrity.
When you try your hardest, it’s not enough.
When you stop, you’re lazy.
When you die trying, you’re taking the easy way out.
——————
Will visit my Itay tomorrow. He’s been on a regular dialysis since last month. He needs financial aid which I currently don’t have.
——————
I’ll be giving a response speech on Robynn’s moving up day. The school director said it’s supposed to be a testimony (or some sort) about Robynn’s development. It’s just ironic that Gayle and I decided to transfer our daughter to another school nearby next school year.
Mind Dump #1
Sometimes I just want to disappear.
I would do anything to have an ability to vanish into thin air at a snap of my finger and avoid any earthly conundrum. But that won’t happen, would it? Because the unfortunate truth is, we all have to deal with an enormous amount of inevitable pain. Be it physical or emotional. I get to face both. On a daily basis.
Geez. I feel lucky.
Counting Sheep
Just finished an upsized slushy coffee (chillz) from one of those 24/7 convenience stores. It’s 2 a.m. and the caffeine is
just starting to kick in. It seemed that I was in bed for the longest time. Gayle and Robynn were already in the R.E.M. level
of sleep several minutes before I hit the sack.
So I was wide awake. Lost count of the flock of sheep. Perfect moment for “what-is-es, what-should’ve-beens, what-will-be’s”
to come stampeding inside my caffeine-soaked gray matter. I was blocking and dodging every thought. And then at the height of
my victory over sleeplessness… a rather similar and weird experience managed to go past my defenses, like a trojan horse it
crept inside my medulla and finally worked its way to the hypothalamus. Man, it’s like a time vortex pulling me right at the
very core.
It was like a parallel universe. Only I’m in the here and now.
It was a normal weekend for us, dormitory-dwellers. We’re all tucked up. If I remember it right, there were only three of us
because the others went home for the usual once-a-week taste non-vegetarian treat. hehe. My bed was assigned on the second
deck. The radio was up at The Master’s Touch, our official sleep provider. And like this night, I can’t seem to catch the
strength (if it’s required) to doze off. And since the next day poses no threat for students like me, I wasn’t even trying. I
was just lying in there, staring at the ceiling. Classical music still playing on the background. Still awake. And after the
very last note of that music, someone coughed a bit, signalling that he’s still awake. Just like me.
I didn’t know where it came from, but I think I remembered myself saying: “Jong, nalungkot ako bigla. Para akong naiiyak sa
music.” Quiet. Sobs. And to my surprise, someone replied: “Ako din, Jong. Parang may kakaibang powers yung music na yon. Ni
wala nga lyrics eh.” … And my third roommate said almost the same thing. Shared the same emotion he eventually felt after
the music. We’re all wide awake … and teary-eyed. The three of us made a unanimous conclusion: It was indeed a very, very
emotional piece of music. So sad we’ve even forgot about the title or the artist.
I can’t think of an explanation. Neither do I think I can muster one. We’ve been listening to that station since like stone
age, but this is the first time we ever felt that way COLLECTIVELY. It was so heartbreaking and at the same time
exhilirating. I can’t think of exact adjectives to describe it. But it has roused in us an emotion that has somehow broken
our tear ducts and shoved a lump down our throats. And for the first time in our straight manly lives, we weren’t afraid to
show our tears. Really, really weird. Wonder how the composer did it.
And then I was vortexed back to present. That’ll keep my neurons busy for a while.
But there goes my dropping eyelids. I think sleep has finally found me.
Just finished an upsized slushy coffee (chillz) from one of those 24/7 convenience stores. It’s 2 a.m. and the caffeine is just starting to kick in. It seemed that I was in bed for the longest time. Gayle and Robynn were already in the R.E.M. level of sleep several minutes before I hit the sack.
So I was wide awake. Lost count of the flock of sheep. Perfect moment for “what-is-es, what-should’ve-beens, what-will-be’s” to come stampeding inside my caffeine-soaked gray matter. I was blocking and dodging every thought. And then at the height of my victory over sleeplessness… a rather similar and weird experience managed to go past my defenses, like a trojan horse it crept inside my medulla and finally worked its way to the hypothalamus. Man, it’s like a time vortex pulling me right at the very core of my college life.
It was like a parallel universe. Only I’m in the here and now.
It was a normal weekend for us, dormitory-dwellers. We’re all tucked up. If I remember it right, there were only three of us because the others went home for the usual once-a-week taste non-vegetarian treat. hehe. My bed was assigned on the second deck. The radio was up at The Master’s Touch, our official sleep provider. And like this night, I can’t seem to catch the strength (if it’s required) to doze off. And since the next day poses no threat for students like me, I wasn’t even trying. I was just lying in there, staring at the ceiling. Classical music still playing on the background. Still awake. And after the very last note of that music, someone coughed a bit, signalling that he’s still awake. Just like me.
I didn’t know where it came from, but I think I remembered myself saying: “Jong, nalungkot ako bigla. Para akong naiiyak sa music.” Quiet. Sobs. And to my surprise, someone replied: “Ako din, Jong. Parang may kakaibang powers yung music na yon. Ni wala nga lyrics eh.” … And my third roommate said almost the same thing. Shared the same emotion he eventually felt after the music. We’re all wide awake … and teary-eyed. The three of us made a unanimous conclusion: It was indeed a very, very emotional piece of music. So sad we’ve even forgot about the title or the artist.
I can’t think of an explanation. Neither do I think I can muster one. We’ve been listening to that station since like stone age, but this is the first time we ever felt that way COLLECTIVELY. It was so heartbreaking and at the same time exhilirating. I can’t think of exact adjectives to describe it. But it has roused in us an emotion that has somehow broken our tear ducts and shoved a lump down our throats. And for the first time in our straight manly lives, we weren’t afraid to show our tears. Really, really weird. Wonder how the composer did it.
And then I was vortexed back to present. That’ll keep my neurons busy for a while.
But there goes my dropping eyelids. I think sleep has finally found me.
And I think I’d … zzz… nngoork…
The Oppressor
We were supposed to join the Ayala march along with thousands of people mourning for Tita Cory’s passing. I prepared my camera just in case we’d push through. I’ve always wanted to capture historical moments such as these. BUT. We have plans already for that day. We needed to pick Robynn up from school. But the Ayala mourning is not my story.
At the school, a classmate was having a birthday party. Hosted by McDonalds. It was a simple celebration. You know, the kind you would have when you want to avoid uninvited guests and/or relatives (hehe). But evidently, the kids we’re ecstatic.
Well, most of them.
The moment Grimace (who in the world would know what he’s supposed to be?) went in, a girl came out screaming. She seemed to have emptied her lungs reeking those horrible shrieks. I looked to see who it was and oh! It was one of the “mean girls” in the nursery class who used to bully my daughter. Who, judging by the size (and attitude), is supposed to be on the kinder class. And a teacher was embracing her as she was escorted out of the room. “Hey, it’s the toughest looking Mean Girl shedding bitter tears!” I thought. The big bully is afraid of Grimace. Not so tough at all. You could imagine me sporting that “evil grin” while she passes in front of me.
As a protective dad, my natural reaction would be “What a day to get even”! I thought of inviting the mascot up to where the bully was. Yeah, to scare her more. But I maintained my calm. I tried to hold it back as much as I can. “I will never give in to revenge,” I reproached myself. They’re just kids, for cryin’ out loud! Afraid of a lot of things. It happens even to adults.
Now there’s a thought.
People who bully us, threaten our lives, gives false accusations about us, make up stories, and do all kinds of injurious stuff to destroy our reputations if not our lives, are people who are afraid of a lot of things. And they hide the fears by picking on others not their own size.
Kinda reminded me of the woman who was brought to Jesus (Check John 8 if you want to read about it). The people were ready to throw stones at her. Some maybe even carrying a boulder (Man, they’re that angry?). They’re all ready to see the rocks piled up over her dead body. These people are angry. Lonely. Friendless. Desperate. And NOT necessarily fearless. They are afraid of their own shadows. Afraid that their sins be exposed. And a hint of humiliation will send them back to where they came from. That explains why nobody threw even a single pebble when Jesus started to deviate the issue to their own lives. Nobody said a single word. They all dropped their stones ( I could imagine someone carrying the biggest rock and dropping it on his toes ) and went home.
I looked outside and the “mean girl” is gone. Apparently, she went directly home immediately after the Grimace terror.
Back To Blogging?
Not that I’m really back at blogging. It’s just something I want to keep and maintain. I believe this is one way of keeping myself connected to the cyberspace.
Not on a regular basis, though, but I will try to give myself a chance to unload my thoughts (yes I’m thinking, too) no matter how mediocre my experiences are. So who knows what i’m gonna spill. I guess i’ll just slop it as I go along.
I’m in no business of boring people with mile-long blogs without any social relevance.
Now there’s a topic.
