It was UP FAIR 98 -- Equipped with a guitar at my back, Aris and I got inside our dorm manager's office."Ma'am tugtog po kami sa Fair mamaya, baka late na po kaming uuwi" said Aris while trying to sit still. I was standing speechless behind him."Dalawa kayo?" she asked. Aris and I nodded in agreement. She nodded in response, then we got out of the office and was soon outside the Kalayaan dorm.
With a terrified look, we comforted our nervousness with isaw we bought in front of the Kalayaan dorm. Aris made his speech about our plan of
winning a record label someday. "Today Sunken garden, tomorrow the world". I mumbled something like "Yes".
We got inside the Fair and waited at the backstage since we were lined-up for the 3rd performance. Then Chito and the rest of the Parokya ni Edgar came in. They were sat in the pavement a few inches in front of us with other bands we didn't know. We stared at them in amazement.
The first performance was from the UP Madrigal singer. I tried to watched from the side of the backstage not knowing that I was blocking someone else's view. I realized my mistake and apologized not knowing that I made a small conversation with the P.O.T. front man.
The second performance was from Kontra Gapi, a group of talented young musician known for playing native musical instruments. We were trying to compose ourselves when Bob, our contact for the night's performance, approached us. "Mukhang mauuna ang mga bandang sikat. Okay lang bang medyo mamaya na kayo?" he asked. We didn't mind, as long as we get to play we said.
A few front act bands played and there was a noise from behind the backstage entrance. Then Ely Buendia got in followed by Raymund then by Buddy then by Marcos -- the whole ERASERHEADS was there!!! They were greeted by other bands and there at the backstage they formed their circle of cool, while we were mere audience of a preconcert event. One of our friends who accompanied our waiting was able to ask for multiple autographs; it was like hitting many birds with one pen.
Then one by one, the famous bands were called. We watched dreamily as they performed in between cheers and applause. My throat was drying up from the crowds outburst. I was afraid of performing with the audience seeing and hearing us as white noise. But nevertheless I enjoyed watching the bands up close and not-so-personal. There was even a time when Buhawi of the Parokya was watching just beside us studying how the other bands were playing and making criticism as if talking to nobody; I actually thought he was talking to me.
Then Bob came back again and told us that we were moved to a later schedule, probably at around midnight or early morning. It was the last sign of defeat. I had an exam the next day, and there was no way we can get back in the dormitory after our curfew hour. We said we'll just watch a bit more and will head back to the dorm. In a way, it was a relief since I don't think we can perform to meet the crowd's expectation -- or maybe I was wrong; maybe it was our chance of a lifetime and we blew it.
Though I never regretted having done so, I will treasure the moment: An experience which still makes me smile while strumming my guitar. We get to play a few gigs after that, and I was able to interview the Eheads for a paper 2 years after; but still, nothing beats that first time
in the backstage.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
The Flower Boy
A Post-Valentine post for Mama -- Something I made last October 2007.
----------------
I'm not good in courting girls - actually, I've never gone through
the courting process in my entire life; however, I'm good in giving
flowers, especially to my Mother.
When I was very young, upon returning home after messily playing with my
playmates, I would collect flowers from our neighbors' garden and backyard.
I make it a point to collect as many flowers as I can; and this usually
ended up in trouble, with me being chased by guard dogs. Sometimes I even
walk to distance just to get the rarest and the colorful ones.
All of these, just to see the smile in my mama's face whenever she saw me
with the flowers. It didn't matter how dirty I was or how I messed my
newly bought shirt during that time. What really mattered was the idea
that I always remember. Always.
In a way, it's my silly bribe so she won't nag me about my playing.
Through time, as I went to Elementary, the idea of the flower was replaced
by bringing homeworks, assignments and good grades. Funny though, that I
longed for the flower moment.
As I went to high school and college, I gave flowers to classmates and
friends occasionally (Valentines or Birthdays); however, I have forgotten
to pick, even just a single one, for mama. This, I am truly guilty of.
However today, I have planned to pick her flowers from my way back home.
Today, I will see her beautiful smile again.
----------------
I'm not good in courting girls - actually, I've never gone through
the courting process in my entire life; however, I'm good in giving
flowers, especially to my Mother.
When I was very young, upon returning home after messily playing with my
playmates, I would collect flowers from our neighbors' garden and backyard.
I make it a point to collect as many flowers as I can; and this usually
ended up in trouble, with me being chased by guard dogs. Sometimes I even
walk to distance just to get the rarest and the colorful ones.
All of these, just to see the smile in my mama's face whenever she saw me
with the flowers. It didn't matter how dirty I was or how I messed my
newly bought shirt during that time. What really mattered was the idea
that I always remember. Always.
In a way, it's my silly bribe so she won't nag me about my playing.
Through time, as I went to Elementary, the idea of the flower was replaced
by bringing homeworks, assignments and good grades. Funny though, that I
longed for the flower moment.
As I went to high school and college, I gave flowers to classmates and
friends occasionally (Valentines or Birthdays); however, I have forgotten
to pick, even just a single one, for mama. This, I am truly guilty of.
However today, I have planned to pick her flowers from my way back home.
Today, I will see her beautiful smile again.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
An Early Morning Phone Call
The 8:00 call I got was from a 3-year old boy saying "I Love You" countless times. He said that he cried waking up without his dada, and he mentioned something about an alligator, probably a culprit in his dream. He said "I miss you" and was very talkative about future plans of us playing the Chicken Little Game. I said "I love you" and he replied with "I LOve youuuuuuuu" prolonging and emphasizing the vowel at the end. Then he said good bye and switched off the phone.
I was outside the office and I realized that it really is a lovely day. I smiled and the clouds seemed to smile back in unison.
I was outside the office and I realized that it really is a lovely day. I smiled and the clouds seemed to smile back in unison.
Wow I Forgot my AGE again!
I suddenly realized that I kept on saying I was 27 well in fact I'm just 26 turning 27 next month...arrrghhhh. Worse, it happened before and I have to recompute just to figure out my age. Good thing I still remember my birth year though.I must've mixed up 2007 with 27 or something.Silly me....arrrghhhhh!
Monday, February 18, 2008
The Old Man's Tale (A fiction)
A story based on an old man's true love story
-----------------------
There used to be a time when a kiss meant more than an affectionate greeting; A time when a kiss could lead to a life-long decision.
Being a farmer's son, I was as dark as all native in Tarlac can be. It was the time when the Americans dominated the country with their Western education and people adore the white complexion; and I adore Julieta for it.
She stands out in a crowd of dark, like a fairy in a forest of the night. She walks slowly but surely and my fellow farmers would slow their pace to have a longer time of her presence. Time travels slower with her the way a thrown pebble slows down traversing the bottom of a river.
We were introduced by a common friend and admittedly she never looked at me more than once. I was hoping we could be introduced again so she would look at me twice. She barely recalled who I was, and I remembered even the details of her earrings. I guess that's what love at first sight is.
The next time I saw her was across the busy street just beside the market place. She was a few paces away from me and seemed to be heading my way. I mustered the best manly posture a young man can make. I looked at her and she was busy minding the passing vehicle.
I said "Hello" in between mumbles. She looked at me confused and was lost in convincing herself that I was a familiar face. She smiled and said something which was lost in the noisy background of vendors' yells and motors' rumbling. She was waiting for my reply, and I made one which I did not think of: I kissed her.
I thought my hearing got impaired with my heart's rapid beating, but slowly I realized that it suddenly became too silent. I slowly moved away from her lips, and saw her shocked and motionless; and all people, amidst the busy vehicle, were staring at us. She never slapped me like I expected her to be, instead she looked at me trying to compose herself, and we parted ways as if nothing happened.
The week after that, our parents met to settle our marriage like tradition would do. It was a big scandal for young lovers to kiss in the public.
Life after that wasn't always a bliss, but I manage to surprise her once in a while and her shock remains afterwards.
-----------------------
There used to be a time when a kiss meant more than an affectionate greeting; A time when a kiss could lead to a life-long decision.
Being a farmer's son, I was as dark as all native in Tarlac can be. It was the time when the Americans dominated the country with their Western education and people adore the white complexion; and I adore Julieta for it.
She stands out in a crowd of dark, like a fairy in a forest of the night. She walks slowly but surely and my fellow farmers would slow their pace to have a longer time of her presence. Time travels slower with her the way a thrown pebble slows down traversing the bottom of a river.
We were introduced by a common friend and admittedly she never looked at me more than once. I was hoping we could be introduced again so she would look at me twice. She barely recalled who I was, and I remembered even the details of her earrings. I guess that's what love at first sight is.
The next time I saw her was across the busy street just beside the market place. She was a few paces away from me and seemed to be heading my way. I mustered the best manly posture a young man can make. I looked at her and she was busy minding the passing vehicle.
I said "Hello" in between mumbles. She looked at me confused and was lost in convincing herself that I was a familiar face. She smiled and said something which was lost in the noisy background of vendors' yells and motors' rumbling. She was waiting for my reply, and I made one which I did not think of: I kissed her.
I thought my hearing got impaired with my heart's rapid beating, but slowly I realized that it suddenly became too silent. I slowly moved away from her lips, and saw her shocked and motionless; and all people, amidst the busy vehicle, were staring at us. She never slapped me like I expected her to be, instead she looked at me trying to compose herself, and we parted ways as if nothing happened.
The week after that, our parents met to settle our marriage like tradition would do. It was a big scandal for young lovers to kiss in the public.
Life after that wasn't always a bliss, but I manage to surprise her once in a while and her shock remains afterwards.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Death's Burden
"Is there something worse than death?"I thought, after hearing the sad news about a death of a couple, who happens to be close friends of Aris.
A small voice inside my head answered indignantly: "There is: It's the idea of carrying the burden of death". That's when I thought of the couple's two children ages 8 and 10.
Though an over-exploited soap opera topic, losing parents at a young age isn't a 30 minute melodramatic matter with a commercial break in between. it's a life-long tragedy a child needs to grow with - it's an empty space which other people cannot fill.
Worse, even the details of the memory will be forgotten. Aris told me that the youngest was running around the funeral playing with a light saber toy; Too young to even understand the concept of death, too young to accept the fate of his lose. The older sibling sat in confusion as tears roll down her cheeks.
I was trying to think of the scenario in my life, but was unable to. My parents have always been a part of my life ever since I first saw them; It was hard to think of my first walk, first bicycle ride, puberty and even my first date without them.
I blinked the thoughts away, since it stole small precious seconds away from my son's attention while he was immersed in the pool holding my hands. It was his first swimming experience; and taking me away from the pool would easily drown him, like the children suffering from the burden of death.
A small voice inside my head answered indignantly: "There is: It's the idea of carrying the burden of death". That's when I thought of the couple's two children ages 8 and 10.
Though an over-exploited soap opera topic, losing parents at a young age isn't a 30 minute melodramatic matter with a commercial break in between. it's a life-long tragedy a child needs to grow with - it's an empty space which other people cannot fill.
Worse, even the details of the memory will be forgotten. Aris told me that the youngest was running around the funeral playing with a light saber toy; Too young to even understand the concept of death, too young to accept the fate of his lose. The older sibling sat in confusion as tears roll down her cheeks.
I was trying to think of the scenario in my life, but was unable to. My parents have always been a part of my life ever since I first saw them; It was hard to think of my first walk, first bicycle ride, puberty and even my first date without them.
I blinked the thoughts away, since it stole small precious seconds away from my son's attention while he was immersed in the pool holding my hands. It was his first swimming experience; and taking me away from the pool would easily drown him, like the children suffering from the burden of death.
Cat A Tonic
While having a stroll with Jody just outside the house talking nonesenselessly about anything, a white cat walk by. He was on the neighbor's rooftop, a few inches above us, wearing dirt on his face; A few spots of orange covers his fur. He was walking towards our direction but not minding us at all, literally doing a cat-walk on a stage made by waves of stainless steel.
Being a cat person that I am, I made fun of the cat by stopping and standing still while making a deliberate stare. This is a gesture of predation, similar to the games made by kittens and cubs alike.
The cat, surprised by my action, stopped and stared at me for a moment. Then knowing that I am incapable of reaching him from a distance, resumed his cat-walk.
Jody laughed at my disappointment, and we walked back to the gate resuming our conversation. The incident with the cat was easily forgotten, until a sprinkle of rain fell on my face. My instinct got the best of me, and I looked above only to see the sky reflecting a half-smiling moon with a few stratus clouds floating above us.
Half-way looking down was the back of the cat. I was greeted by danggling balls fresh from urination. It wasn't rain at all and it smelled totally wrong.
Being a cat person that I am, I made fun of the cat by stopping and standing still while making a deliberate stare. This is a gesture of predation, similar to the games made by kittens and cubs alike.
The cat, surprised by my action, stopped and stared at me for a moment. Then knowing that I am incapable of reaching him from a distance, resumed his cat-walk.
Jody laughed at my disappointment, and we walked back to the gate resuming our conversation. The incident with the cat was easily forgotten, until a sprinkle of rain fell on my face. My instinct got the best of me, and I looked above only to see the sky reflecting a half-smiling moon with a few stratus clouds floating above us.
Half-way looking down was the back of the cat. I was greeted by danggling balls fresh from urination. It wasn't rain at all and it smelled totally wrong.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Swim Fan
My son is a natural; unlike me whose afraid of the water, Jas doesn't seem to be bothered by the depths of the pool. He would simply shout "Tatalon na ako", and there he will goe jumping from a height, dropping off the water, splashing water in my face and trying to hold on to his salbabida
; all in just a matter of seconds. Then like a usual game, he would climb up and jump again.
Like any father, I just watched the whole process terrified and excited at the same time while thinking "He must've gotten it from his mom" :)
; all in just a matter of seconds. Then like a usual game, he would climb up and jump again.
Like any father, I just watched the whole process terrified and excited at the same time while thinking "He must've gotten it from his mom" :)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
From Romans to Romance- Werewolves, Juno and Valentines
It was Feb 15 and not 14th that Romans first thought of Lovers' day; though it was more of a fertility ritual, with male youthful angst running naked on the street hoping to get a glimpse of cheering women. This reminds me of the UP Oblation run, without the head cover.
The young Roman women would purposely present their palms out, as if playing with flowers & vines on a garden. This ritual, they call Lupercalia, which originated from the she-wolf worship who suckled the Roman kings Remus (which, It think was the basis of Remus Lupin in Harry Potter - with Lupin taken from Lupus or wolf) and Romulus.
It was a time of shepherds, and wolves were seen as a mythical monsters that took the livelihood and lives of men. It was a time of low fertility, that they offer bloods from animals to summon fertility Gods.
Some even offer to the Goddess Juno (where the movie with the same name was inspired), Festival of Juno Februa, which was celebrated on February 13-14.
Romanticizing the idea cause numerous legends, folklore and stories to emphasize the romantic era of poetry and Catholicism: Archbishop Valentine providing marriage to a "Romeo & Juliet" lovers; St. Valentine being strucked into the heart by an arrow, hence the heart and
arrow by the cupids.
Marketing paved way and cards, roses, jewelry and chocolates were branded for the lover's season. the card-giving originated from an elementary project, with children writing good things about their classmates. It was the children who taught the adults to give love in writing. A certain Leigh Eric Schmidt during 1840's enhanced the idea and was able to start the card industry. Hallmark by Joyce C. Hall, after a century, follow through.
All of these thoughts dawned at me while enjoying the heart-shaped greeting card, hear-shaped donut and a delicious chocolate and on my table.
So I guess I have to thank the Romans for the romance.
The young Roman women would purposely present their palms out, as if playing with flowers & vines on a garden. This ritual, they call Lupercalia, which originated from the she-wolf worship who suckled the Roman kings Remus (which, It think was the basis of Remus Lupin in Harry Potter - with Lupin taken from Lupus or wolf) and Romulus.
It was a time of shepherds, and wolves were seen as a mythical monsters that took the livelihood and lives of men. It was a time of low fertility, that they offer bloods from animals to summon fertility Gods.
Some even offer to the Goddess Juno (where the movie with the same name was inspired), Festival of Juno Februa, which was celebrated on February 13-14.
Romanticizing the idea cause numerous legends, folklore and stories to emphasize the romantic era of poetry and Catholicism: Archbishop Valentine providing marriage to a "Romeo & Juliet" lovers; St. Valentine being strucked into the heart by an arrow, hence the heart and
arrow by the cupids.
Marketing paved way and cards, roses, jewelry and chocolates were branded for the lover's season. the card-giving originated from an elementary project, with children writing good things about their classmates. It was the children who taught the adults to give love in writing. A certain Leigh Eric Schmidt during 1840's enhanced the idea and was able to start the card industry. Hallmark by Joyce C. Hall, after a century, follow through.
All of these thoughts dawned at me while enjoying the heart-shaped greeting card, hear-shaped donut and a delicious chocolate and on my table.
So I guess I have to thank the Romans for the romance.
Monday, February 11, 2008
How to know it (a fiction)
A love story crafted and inspired by the movie Juno
---------------------
How would one know if love has really come their way?
Simple, I said; "One just needs to put ones hand as high as she can, as if reaching for an invisible balloon flying away". She was not surprised nor amused with my comment, she just looked at me waiting for more. "Then you do it until you get tired". She said ok and we parted ways.
The next day, she went back to me with her hands tucked in her jeans as if hiding a surprise. Her smile lines a small curve on her pretty face.
"Now I know I found love"
It was my turn to hide the surprise from her. I simply said "Good", pretending to be least interested with the details. She stood there transfixed at my eyes with smile wide enough to make my lips slide into a smile.
Knowing my pretension, I gave up by letting her elaborate.
She did what I told her; on a busy street she stopped at the middle of the crossing pedestrians. She waited for the green light and let her hands reach high above her while looking at the sky forming rainy clouds into her vision.
Like a crazy person, she was left there standing while cars tried to avoid her. Passenger and drivers alike were wondering and staring at her stupidly. She didn't mind, until the green light turned into red again.
She dropped her hand and was lost with the passing crowd.
"So?" I asked.
"Now it's your turn to know love" and she walked away leaving me curious and dumbfounded at the same time. I was happy the whole day. Well that was until I nearly avoided death by a nearing fast car and being shoved off by a traffic police man after trying what she did, which I later on learned she didn't.
I love her for it, and that's how I knew love.
---------------------
How would one know if love has really come their way?
Simple, I said; "One just needs to put ones hand as high as she can, as if reaching for an invisible balloon flying away". She was not surprised nor amused with my comment, she just looked at me waiting for more. "Then you do it until you get tired". She said ok and we parted ways.
The next day, she went back to me with her hands tucked in her jeans as if hiding a surprise. Her smile lines a small curve on her pretty face.
"Now I know I found love"
It was my turn to hide the surprise from her. I simply said "Good", pretending to be least interested with the details. She stood there transfixed at my eyes with smile wide enough to make my lips slide into a smile.
Knowing my pretension, I gave up by letting her elaborate.
She did what I told her; on a busy street she stopped at the middle of the crossing pedestrians. She waited for the green light and let her hands reach high above her while looking at the sky forming rainy clouds into her vision.
Like a crazy person, she was left there standing while cars tried to avoid her. Passenger and drivers alike were wondering and staring at her stupidly. She didn't mind, until the green light turned into red again.
She dropped her hand and was lost with the passing crowd.
"So?" I asked.
"Now it's your turn to know love" and she walked away leaving me curious and dumbfounded at the same time. I was happy the whole day. Well that was until I nearly avoided death by a nearing fast car and being shoved off by a traffic police man after trying what she did, which I later on learned she didn't.
I love her for it, and that's how I knew love.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Fine Line Between Stupidity and Wit
Stupid me, I believe that being stupid would outwit my own stupidity. That's not an overstatement, I really am acting stupid lately. But haven't we all been stupid one time or another, so I guess I can say that I deserve a time of stupidity: A credit to be part of the stupid human race.
So why feel stupid about it? Well, admitting it surely would make one smarter than being stupid, and admitting it makes you move on.
The witty part; I know I did something stupidly smart. Only time can tell I'm right about this one though.
Spilled Chocolate
A styro cup was rolling on its back
Lying softly on a spilled chocolate.
The table got wet,
And slowly
The liquid dispersed into a brown lake
Finding places at lower ends
The edge of the table
Formed a falls from nowhere
Dropping hot chocolates on the floor
The white pavement glimmers
a splatter of angry fluid
stagnant and waiting
It lasted seconds
and everything went back
to normal
like people do
Lying softly on a spilled chocolate.
The table got wet,
And slowly
The liquid dispersed into a brown lake
Finding places at lower ends
The edge of the table
Formed a falls from nowhere
Dropping hot chocolates on the floor
The white pavement glimmers
a splatter of angry fluid
stagnant and waiting
It lasted seconds
and everything went back
to normal
like people do
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Amazing Aloha
Jody said she misses our last College year: The time when I was just the graduating student and she was the bread winner of our relationship, being a teacher to a prestigious Catholic school.
She misses my text messages saying that I haven't eaten anything the entire day, after running simulations and attending GE classes; and I was wondering if she can treat me for a dinner. She remembered trying to go back to UP as fast as she could thinking about her starving boyfriend. Cute. I never knew I was that childish back then, though I remember being broke all the time.
She misses treating me for a cup of coffee while we had a chat about her work and about my boring classes. She misses my joking about her as my Sugar Mommy, being a girlfriend with a sweet thought and my loan provider.
She misses my waiting at Powerbooks in Megamall after work, then riding home mercilessly in the MRT or in a smoke-belching bus.
She misses the amazing Aloha; the very first meal I bought her in our very own first date. I told her it was also my first time buying an Aloha burger, and it took my entire daily allowance. Secretly, I skipped 2 meals after that date.
She misses such moments because now I get to work and provide for the family.
"Nothing changed."I jokingly said. She asked me why.
"Well you get to keep my ATM and I'm still broke", that's when she hit me on the head after ruining our reminiscence.
We resumed our talks under the pillows while a little 3-year old boy hoards the bed space, snoring a few inches away.
She misses my text messages saying that I haven't eaten anything the entire day, after running simulations and attending GE classes; and I was wondering if she can treat me for a dinner. She remembered trying to go back to UP as fast as she could thinking about her starving boyfriend. Cute. I never knew I was that childish back then, though I remember being broke all the time.
She misses treating me for a cup of coffee while we had a chat about her work and about my boring classes. She misses my joking about her as my Sugar Mommy, being a girlfriend with a sweet thought and my loan provider.
She misses my waiting at Powerbooks in Megamall after work, then riding home mercilessly in the MRT or in a smoke-belching bus.
She misses the amazing Aloha; the very first meal I bought her in our very own first date. I told her it was also my first time buying an Aloha burger, and it took my entire daily allowance. Secretly, I skipped 2 meals after that date.
She misses such moments because now I get to work and provide for the family.
"Nothing changed."I jokingly said. She asked me why.
"Well you get to keep my ATM and I'm still broke", that's when she hit me on the head after ruining our reminiscence.
We resumed our talks under the pillows while a little 3-year old boy hoards the bed space, snoring a few inches away.
Speaking of English Speaking
Speaking of English
"Today work, we talk English"
That's the new policy adopted by the management to enhance the communication skills in the company I work with. I actually find it funny, reminding me of my high school english class; the class where one gets to be punished whenever a tagalog word is muttered. Being a radical student that I was, I remember making fun of the rule by saying "Ouch" exaggeratedly, while pretending to be hurt; or talking animatedly to my teacher that she may stumble and be punished with the rules backfiring at her. Well oftentimes, the joke backfired at me.
Nevertheless, I tried to speak in English the whole time at work. I also tried not to make fun of people while they out-of-ordinarily talk in a strange language. I made fun with Aris and Russell doing American slang using gibberish. I was making fun of the rule when I suddenly remembered something which straightened my face afterwards: Dark lurking memories about my silly English dawned me.
There are embarrassing moments which crinkles the top of my nose and lines my forehead whenever I remember it. Worst, it involves the president of the company, a fine english gentleman.
1. Use FIXTURE in a sentence.
My boss asked why the air-con wasn't working one day. Taken by surprise, I said "It's scheduled for FIXTURE this afternoon", then realizing my mistake I walked away as fast as I could.
2. Use DISCO in a sentence.
My boss was showing how his leg injury got well at a short span of time. I jokingly said "Well, at least you can go DISCO". He smiled at my comment, probably lost in translation.
3. Use Mumbling in a sentence.
My boss asked me with something work related. I mumbled then made a escape to the comfort room.
4. Use Gesture in a sentence.
My boss asked where my supervisor was. I pointed outside with mouth closed as if directing a heavy traffic, getting rid of the conversation.
5. Use Laughter in a sentence.
My boss said something funny that I didn't catch. I laughed without knowing why.
6. Use earphones in a sentence.
My boss getting near my table then realizing that I was wearing a headphone would just smile and nod, while I do the same in response.
So English anyone? Seriously, I'll go for it then.
"Today work, we talk English"
That's the new policy adopted by the management to enhance the communication skills in the company I work with. I actually find it funny, reminding me of my high school english class; the class where one gets to be punished whenever a tagalog word is muttered. Being a radical student that I was, I remember making fun of the rule by saying "Ouch" exaggeratedly, while pretending to be hurt; or talking animatedly to my teacher that she may stumble and be punished with the rules backfiring at her. Well oftentimes, the joke backfired at me.
Nevertheless, I tried to speak in English the whole time at work. I also tried not to make fun of people while they out-of-ordinarily talk in a strange language. I made fun with Aris and Russell doing American slang using gibberish. I was making fun of the rule when I suddenly remembered something which straightened my face afterwards: Dark lurking memories about my silly English dawned me.
There are embarrassing moments which crinkles the top of my nose and lines my forehead whenever I remember it. Worst, it involves the president of the company, a fine english gentleman.
1. Use FIXTURE in a sentence.
My boss asked why the air-con wasn't working one day. Taken by surprise, I said "It's scheduled for FIXTURE this afternoon", then realizing my mistake I walked away as fast as I could.
2. Use DISCO in a sentence.
My boss was showing how his leg injury got well at a short span of time. I jokingly said "Well, at least you can go DISCO". He smiled at my comment, probably lost in translation.
3. Use Mumbling in a sentence.
My boss asked me with something work related. I mumbled then made a escape to the comfort room.
4. Use Gesture in a sentence.
My boss asked where my supervisor was. I pointed outside with mouth closed as if directing a heavy traffic, getting rid of the conversation.
5. Use Laughter in a sentence.
My boss said something funny that I didn't catch. I laughed without knowing why.
6. Use earphones in a sentence.
My boss getting near my table then realizing that I was wearing a headphone would just smile and nod, while I do the same in response.
So English anyone? Seriously, I'll go for it then.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Entropy
My old thoughts before going to college. kulit.
---
I am the master of disarrangement; my hair moves away from the direction I want, my face does not provide me a sense of awe, my speech slur whenever I want to speak right. It took me years to be content with Rye.
I used to think that my life resembles my disarrangement. I began to think that I was destined to be doomed. I let destiny took over me.
Destiny truly moves you. You can't alter it, play with it and mess with it. That's the unwritten rule. Like the law of entropy, wherein everything tends to be disarranged as time moves on.
So I thought.
I began to realize that I am the controller of my own fate. I can move my own piece in the chessboard of life. I can even make things happen with a flick of a finger. I just need more focus and convection in achieving something. I need to put myself in that situation to know how to be there. I began reading positive omens, began seeing things differently and began renewing myself.
I'm live again and back in the game.
---
I am the master of disarrangement; my hair moves away from the direction I want, my face does not provide me a sense of awe, my speech slur whenever I want to speak right. It took me years to be content with Rye.
I used to think that my life resembles my disarrangement. I began to think that I was destined to be doomed. I let destiny took over me.
Destiny truly moves you. You can't alter it, play with it and mess with it. That's the unwritten rule. Like the law of entropy, wherein everything tends to be disarranged as time moves on.
So I thought.
I began to realize that I am the controller of my own fate. I can move my own piece in the chessboard of life. I can even make things happen with a flick of a finger. I just need more focus and convection in achieving something. I need to put myself in that situation to know how to be there. I began reading positive omens, began seeing things differently and began renewing myself.
I'm live again and back in the game.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
The Food Chain (science fiction)
This is a story I made back in College. Inspired by Ayn Rand, Matrix and the Soylent Green movie.
-------
They call me Blote. I eat for a living; not the way everyone does since I belong to a caste called Width. We eat and rest for a living. My secret friend, Black is from the caste Height. They train physically and rigorously underneath the hot Sun for a living. His skin is burnt and dry; Mine is reddish-pink, overly-stretched by too much fatty intakes.
Society is simple. We live in a desolated island which the Elders claim to be the only habitable place on Earth. Technology is high enough to hold a population of 3 million. Above that number, the human race will become extinct in a minute. The air, temperature and all weather conditions are so sensitive that the reproduction of biological toys were prohibited. My generation never saw the concept of animals and plants. They appear as 3d models in our virtual world instead.
The Height fights for our freedom. They provide the workforce and handle warfare against nomads outside the island. They protect the Width religiously.
Though living symbiotically, Heights and Widths aren't allowed to speak to one another. They have their own language and we have ours.
I am pretty thin for a Width, but nevertheless I am a Width. The elders say that I used up too much fats in my brain, which I should not develop. Thinking and fighting are for Height, while eating is for Width.
I learned the Height's language secretly by chancing upon a digital book I've cracked. After 2 days, I was able to understand all that the Heights say.
The Height view Width as a lower caste. The same way that the Width thinks poorly of the Height. It was a social battle.
It was from a social joke that I met Black.
He was my guard, and he was assigned to deliver my food that day. He looked at me with disgust as I finish my meal. He said "Fat Royal King" under his breath, and I surprised him by smiling and uttering "Black peasant"
We secretly communicated during meal delivery. He would tell me about the way of the Heights and I would tell him about the Width.
On my 20th birthday, Black came with a special meal. Instead of being happy with the day, he was wearing a sad face. "Today is my birthday" I said. "I know" he responded. He handed me the meal but before I can finish eating he told me not to eat the dessert. I handed the dessert to him, and he threw it underneath my table. He said that I should pretend to be asleep after the meal.
I lay down with eyes closed afterwards.
A machine took me from my bed while I pretended to be sleeping. It carried me for an hour until I felt the hot mist forming in my body. I opened my eyes and was awed by the large metal machinery around me. I looked up with mouth wide open. The place was filled with the stench of burning vomit. I tried to walk but found my shoes slippery.
Then I looked down.
I was standing under pile of corpse. They were Width, and most of them I recognized as my clan mates. I tried to move away but something caught me off guard and I slipped and rolled down the mountain of body. I shook my head only to find a hooded figure standing before me.
He offered his hands to help me stand up. He was a Nomad as clearly seen with the long beard and hair.
"I see that my spy has helped a Width. You're smart enough to be freed my friend"
, he said.
He took out a syringe which reminded me of our daily vitamins back in the station. He said that it was a medication to calm me down. I nodded in response and he inserted the needle into my arm. The pain made me groan, yet there was an immediate reaction in my stiff muscles. I relaxed and before I can thank him visions clouded my mind.
It was direct projection into my brain. An image of the width being nourished until he dies as age 20. Flash. An image of the dead Width being taken into the place the machine took me. Flash. The Width was slowly being decomposed by chemicals. The liquids taken from the Width were cleansed and placed into a gigantic agar gels. Flash. The gels were solidified and were taken into a manufacturing plant. Flash. The plant packages the Width into food and some other into fuel form and into concentrated liquid form.
Flash.
The fuel were being used by Height to drive the machinery. Flash. The Height eats the food. Flash. The Height fights and works for the society. Flash. The survivors of the battle retire at age 20 and were transferred to the facility of Elders. Flash. Elders live a pleasurable life through drug addiction of a liquid product manufactured from the body of the Width.
Flash.
I was back in front of the Nomad. I took his stretched hands and stood beside him. He took me to a place outside the citadel, and I didn't look back to the wicked place ever again.
-------
They call me Blote. I eat for a living; not the way everyone does since I belong to a caste called Width. We eat and rest for a living. My secret friend, Black is from the caste Height. They train physically and rigorously underneath the hot Sun for a living. His skin is burnt and dry; Mine is reddish-pink, overly-stretched by too much fatty intakes.
Society is simple. We live in a desolated island which the Elders claim to be the only habitable place on Earth. Technology is high enough to hold a population of 3 million. Above that number, the human race will become extinct in a minute. The air, temperature and all weather conditions are so sensitive that the reproduction of biological toys were prohibited. My generation never saw the concept of animals and plants. They appear as 3d models in our virtual world instead.
The Height fights for our freedom. They provide the workforce and handle warfare against nomads outside the island. They protect the Width religiously.
Though living symbiotically, Heights and Widths aren't allowed to speak to one another. They have their own language and we have ours.
I am pretty thin for a Width, but nevertheless I am a Width. The elders say that I used up too much fats in my brain, which I should not develop. Thinking and fighting are for Height, while eating is for Width.
I learned the Height's language secretly by chancing upon a digital book I've cracked. After 2 days, I was able to understand all that the Heights say.
The Height view Width as a lower caste. The same way that the Width thinks poorly of the Height. It was a social battle.
It was from a social joke that I met Black.
He was my guard, and he was assigned to deliver my food that day. He looked at me with disgust as I finish my meal. He said "Fat Royal King" under his breath, and I surprised him by smiling and uttering "Black peasant"
We secretly communicated during meal delivery. He would tell me about the way of the Heights and I would tell him about the Width.
On my 20th birthday, Black came with a special meal. Instead of being happy with the day, he was wearing a sad face. "Today is my birthday" I said. "I know" he responded. He handed me the meal but before I can finish eating he told me not to eat the dessert. I handed the dessert to him, and he threw it underneath my table. He said that I should pretend to be asleep after the meal.
I lay down with eyes closed afterwards.
A machine took me from my bed while I pretended to be sleeping. It carried me for an hour until I felt the hot mist forming in my body. I opened my eyes and was awed by the large metal machinery around me. I looked up with mouth wide open. The place was filled with the stench of burning vomit. I tried to walk but found my shoes slippery.
Then I looked down.
I was standing under pile of corpse. They were Width, and most of them I recognized as my clan mates. I tried to move away but something caught me off guard and I slipped and rolled down the mountain of body. I shook my head only to find a hooded figure standing before me.
He offered his hands to help me stand up. He was a Nomad as clearly seen with the long beard and hair.
"I see that my spy has helped a Width. You're smart enough to be freed my friend"
, he said.
He took out a syringe which reminded me of our daily vitamins back in the station. He said that it was a medication to calm me down. I nodded in response and he inserted the needle into my arm. The pain made me groan, yet there was an immediate reaction in my stiff muscles. I relaxed and before I can thank him visions clouded my mind.
It was direct projection into my brain. An image of the width being nourished until he dies as age 20. Flash. An image of the dead Width being taken into the place the machine took me. Flash. The Width was slowly being decomposed by chemicals. The liquids taken from the Width were cleansed and placed into a gigantic agar gels. Flash. The gels were solidified and were taken into a manufacturing plant. Flash. The plant packages the Width into food and some other into fuel form and into concentrated liquid form.
Flash.
The fuel were being used by Height to drive the machinery. Flash. The Height eats the food. Flash. The Height fights and works for the society. Flash. The survivors of the battle retire at age 20 and were transferred to the facility of Elders. Flash. Elders live a pleasurable life through drug addiction of a liquid product manufactured from the body of the Width.
Flash.
I was back in front of the Nomad. I took his stretched hands and stood beside him. He took me to a place outside the citadel, and I didn't look back to the wicked place ever again.
Jaschool
Jas is going to school and Jody was able to get an application form for the SPED program in Kalayaan; a special school for gifted youngsters. So we began answering the parents' questionnaire last Sunday while Kulet was playing at the McDo playhouse.
One thing I learned from the form, when you're a parent you tend to exaggerate on your son's accomplishments. Well I know that Jas is smart and is ahead of his age, but I can't seem to avoid on thinking further more. When asked if our son can play any musical instrument, I visualized him playing the guitar, eventhough he only pretends to play it most of the time. Whenever asked about his artistry, I imagined that his drawings are of da Vinci's equal.
Good thing Jody and I answered it together, because we ended up either nodding in disagreement or shaking our head in agreement.
It is a large phase in our son's life and we want to give him all the support he'll be needing, the way my parent's forced me to wake up early not to be late for work..err. school.
So is your son GIFTED? No doubt, he is.
Gifted and more.
One thing I learned from the form, when you're a parent you tend to exaggerate on your son's accomplishments. Well I know that Jas is smart and is ahead of his age, but I can't seem to avoid on thinking further more. When asked if our son can play any musical instrument, I visualized him playing the guitar, eventhough he only pretends to play it most of the time. Whenever asked about his artistry, I imagined that his drawings are of da Vinci's equal.
Good thing Jody and I answered it together, because we ended up either nodding in disagreement or shaking our head in agreement.
It is a large phase in our son's life and we want to give him all the support he'll be needing, the way my parent's forced me to wake up early not to be late for work..err. school.
So is your son GIFTED? No doubt, he is.
Gifted and more.
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