Thursday, May 31, 2007

Update

Ah, it has been quite a while since my last post. I’ve just been so busy with my studies lately… and the final exams. Well, all that is done now… and what awaits me tomorrow… is the release of my grades, which is terribly daunting considering the fact that I might have uhm… not so satisfactory grades due to the “always-late-in-my-first-class-not-listening-in-my-second-class-sleeping-during-my-third-class” routine that I have religiously followed since the first day of school. I know, I am a bad role model… so, kids don’t… don’t do what I do. hahaha.

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ROOTBEER AND DALANDAN JUICE, FREE WILL

Ever get the feeling that you are so mad about something but you just don’t know why?

Well… I have had that feeling yesterday… and it was odd. It felt like this deep emotional distension coming from inside and I just wanted to swear at everybody. But I did not do that, hehehe…

We were at the train station yesterday, headed back here. It was raining cats and dogs… like crazy. My pants got all soaked and the umbrella was not much help in screening rain from drenching me. There were three of us… me and my twin cousins. We decided to have dinner at the train station’s food court. When we arrived, the place was chock-full of people and we had a hard time trying to find empty seats but we fortunately did. They had rootbeer and I went for a nice cup of dalandan juice because I had a bad case of runny nose and cough… I’m all fine now hehehe. But yesterday was just crazy. It is amazing how being ill could make your perspective do a complete turn-around. Oh, well… it could also open your eyes to things. *thoughtful* It is frightening how much you would know if you open up and broaden your own perspective on things. I mean, if you really do try to understand how things work and why they happen, you’d come to assume the fact that nothing really is for certain out there… that although we think we almost already know about everything that takes place here, which is true… we still have a lot of questions that are left unanswered until now. When you think about it long enough, you will come up with a realization… that all these rules we have… and these legal tenets that we try to abide by, they would mean nothing… if put side by side with free will. That is all I can say for now, ehehe you would have to figure it out for yourself if you want to understand what I am talking about. *smile*

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This is a crappy post… I know... hehehe but I had to make it. It’s been so long since my last entry, this is just an update… lolx.

--oOo--

Friday, May 18, 2007

Shakespeare is gay

The irate rays of the commanding yellow blob up in the sky strokes the whole city as summer peeps into the approaching horizon. I am feeling a bit on the poetic side right now, my teacher in literature really stirred up something in me again. Poetry, I remembered how it felt to appreciate the words that make it, and the curious things it could make you realize. It could be about life, reality, love, and everything else from where you’d find a source of strong emotion. For me, the upshot is I would have this terribly awe-inspiring feeling of wanting to put down words on paper but when I come down to actually doing it, I would not even know where to begin.( And this could take for hours)

So, this is what I have realized… or made of what I read, and what the professor shared with us. (Aside from how Shakespeare was really a homosexual… I know, it is sad)

Life, basically, is all about emotions and our need to feel them.

I don’t know what else to say, I wish I could talk to someone who spouts about morality, social tenets, reality, life… I have this awful penchant to know more about these things. I don’t want to just sit around and watch everything in front of me transpire unknowingly. If I went through life like that, it would simply be jarringly tedious. What I would want, is to know how stuff works… why stuff works. I know I have dreadfully lofty ideals.

I just don’t want to be ignorant.

--oOo--

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Numbers

There are 19 letters in your name.Those 19 letters total to 83There are 8 vowels and 11 consonants in your name.
Your number is: 11
The characteristics of #11 are: High spiritual plane, intuitive, illumination, idealist, a dreamer.
The expression or destiny for #11:Your Expression number is 11. The number 11 is the first of the master numbers. It is associated with idealistic concepts and rather spiritual issues. Accordingly, it is a number with potentials that are somewhat more difficult to live up to. You have the capacity to be inspirational, and the ability to lead merely by your own example. An inborn inner strength and awareness can make you an excellent teacher, social worker, philosopher, or advisor. No matter what area of work you pursue, you are very aware and sensitive to the highest sense of your environment. Your intuition is very strong; in fact, many psychic people and those involved in occult studies have the number 11 expression. You possess a good mind with keen analytical ability. Because of this you can probably succeed in most lines of work, however, you will do better and be happier outside of the business world. Oddly enough, even here you generally succeed, owing to your often original and unusual approach. Nonetheless, you are more content working with your ideals, rather than dollars and cents.
The positive aspect of the number 11 expression is an always idealistic attitude. Your thinking is long term, and you are able to grasp the far-reaching effects of actions and plans. You are disappointed by the shortsighted views of many of your contemporaries. You are deeply concerned and supportive of art, music, or of beauty in any form.
The negative attitudes associated with the number 11 expression include a continuous sense of nervous tension; you may be too sensitive and temperamental. You tend to dream a lot and may be more of a dreamer than a doer. Fantasy and reality sometimes become intermingled and you are sometimes very impractical. You tend to want to spread the illumination of your knowledge to others irrespective of their desire or need.
Your Soul Urge number is: 3
A Soul Urge number of 3 means: With the Soul Urge number 3 your desire in life is personal expression, and generally enjoying life to its fullest. You want to participate in an active social life and enjoy a large circle of friends. You want to be in the limelight, expressing your artistic or intellectual talents. Word skills may be your thing; speaking, writing, acting, singing. In a positive sense, the 3 energy is friendly, outgoing and always very social.
You have a decidedly upbeat attitude that is rarely discouraged; a good mental and emotional balance.
The 3 Soul Urge gives intuitive insight, thus, very high creative and inspirational tendencies. The truly outstanding trait shown by the 3 Soul Urge is that of self-expression, regardless of the field of endeavor.
On the negative side, you may at times become too easygoing and too optimistic, tending to scatter forces and accomplish very little. Often, the excessive 3 energy produces non-stop talkers. Everyone has faults, but the 3 soul urge doesn't appreciate having these pointed out.
Your Inner Dream number is: 8
An Inner Dream number of 8 means: You dream of success in the business or political world, of power and control of large material endeavors. You crave authority and recognition of executive skills. Your secret self may have very strong desire to become an entrepreneur.

- - - -

This is a bit creepy... and true.

And all the while I thought my number was SEVEN!

http://www.paulsadowski.com/Numbers.asp



--oOo--

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Porn


GPD: I read porn today.

^_~: You did?

GPD: Accidentally.

^_~: Yeah, right. * Rolls eyes* Uhm, what was it about?

GPD: Im not sure if it was porno though, but it did seem like one.*giggles*

^_~: What was it about then? Tell me… then I’ll tell you if it is porno.

GPD: I am pretty sure it is.

^_~: Come on. You’re killing me here.

GPD: *Giggles* It was about this girl. She has tjis step dad, who is not really her step dad yet. But he will be… later in the story, so its okay to call him her step dad.

^_~: Okay. That is a nice uhm,introduction. But get to the good part.

GPD: Okay. They were in this room, the girl and her “stepdad”. Do you think I should just call him “her moms’ boyfriend”? Or is stepdad better?

^_~: *Scowls* I don’t care. Just tell me what happened next.

GPD: Alright, alright… You don’t need to look at me like that. You look scary you know. Okay, so… they were in this room… together, because the girls mom left, for work… so she wont be back for a while. I wonder what’s her work though, they didn’t say in the story.

^_~: Gosh. Can you just get to the point?

GPD: OOOooowkay… Mr. Grumpy. Just wondering here. Am I not allowed to wonder anymore? I was just wondering… she could be a pornstar for all we know. That! Would make the story pornographic.

^_~: *Stands up and leaves*

- - - -

I got you, didn’t I?
You perv! haha. Kidding.
I have nothing against people who read or watch porn.
Just dont act all weird and shit on me now... else, I'd have to use my magical chopsticks adnd kung fu you ... yeah.. I would, uhm... do that.
I am a black belter, you know. And then I woke up.
--oOo--

Saturday, May 5, 2007

Hidden messages

I always wanted to write something clever, and something that would stick to you like glue on paper or oil on your hands. But all I ever come up with are just some obscure analogies that contain my covert opinions about the things that happen to me and to the people around me. And of course, not everyone would want to read crap like that, I mean, who would bother reading something they don’t even understand. I sure do hope I would be confident enough to convey what I really want to say one of these days.

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SARAH AND HER HANDS

One sweltering afternoon, at a famous school of a famous city, was a girl who wore her hair long, just a little bit above her shoulders… she dyed it auburn because the person who cut her hair said she’d look good in it. Sarah, it was what her friends call her.


She sat next to a guy, Michael was his name. He would always turn his back from her when they sat together, but he would also steal quick glances at her sometimes. One time he even asked her a question, and she remembered it vividly… how he asked:

Ipod on one hand, looking outside the window sill with her thoughts traversing from South Korea to Japan and to California, the places she knew she would go to one day. A faint mutter ringed from beside her. She already knew who dispensed the whisper and she adroitly turned to his direction, just in time to see him bowl over and for that expression to swiftly disappear too just as it had appeared. He opened his fresh lips and the most wonderful sound she ever heard engulfed the background. Clanging of bells together, the merry singing of birds, and her favorite love song, all together all at once. And as he said;

“Anngoo Bee Seer?” With a slight grin gloriously painted on his face.

What?

“Naeeneg ngo bee seer?” He reiterated, as if talking to a mentally challenged kid but without the gaping mouth.

Oh no, he is a ngongo…

She could almost hear her dreams shatter to pieces…

She felt that heaviness again on her chest, like the one when she buys a dvd of a movie she wanted to see and when she gets home and plays it finds out that it skips, or that time when she had this deep intimate conversation with someone over the net and thought he’d be the perfect guy only to receive a confession that he wasn’t a guy.

Sarah straightened up.

He looked at her funny, with a wrinkling of his brow.

He made a funny gesture too, after that.

His gloriously sculpted hands raveled away from the notebook he had been clutching and settled on his ear, with a tugging movement.

What?

He tugged the air again.

She noticed she still had her Ipod on…

She pulled out the earphones and the music died away, and she heard him ask again;

“Narinig mo ba sinabi ni sir?” ( Did you hear what Sir said? )

In that GLORIOUS oh GLORIOUS voice of his…

After school… she was all alone in her room again. The memory of his voice refuses to fade out.

Alone in her bed and with her adroit hands… the music began to flare.

--oOo--

Wednesday, May 2, 2007

THE RED BALL ON THE WINDOW PANE

See how it teases, rocking back and forth at the edge
Of that skeletal window pane

Like a tree stripped of its leaves,
When winter begins to nip each tip

A red ball braving a fall,
In its imagination

Steady as she goes, capturing moments as they fleet
Not yielding and almost yielding

Proud and glittering in its red splendor, inching towards uncertain steps
For another inch would make it fall back helplessly

To the earth and its gravity, to the gravity and its reality
In its redness, it moves back embracing cowardice

Then a paroxysm of courage,
Naturally pushing it towards that end

Forth the rim of infinite possibilities,
Possibilities of being absolute

All it can see is the redness in itself,
Circular and round, bouncy

It rolls over slowly towards the yawning four-sided gap
As if a small child hesitant to let go of his mothers hand

While crossing an empty road,
As if a curious animal testing the unfamiliarity of an object

And it retreats back several steps
Then it comes back again

Testing and teasing what it hasn’t
For it must be done, the thirst for knowledge to be satisfied

Red and arrogant of its bearing,
It neared the rough wooden pane, termites carrying scraps on the side

Jump…

Down goes, and she could fly for a moment
The touch of the demanding breeze kept balance

But she will hit the ground soon,
And she will bounce back


Do it over again,
Just like how it should be.


--oOo--

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