Tuesday, September 23, 2008
what a busy day!!!tgal ko na ring di nkakapagpost d2.
msydo akong nging busy this past few weeks or should i say this past month...
well starting last aug 20 i guess?!!
masyado n kong nfull load ng mga projects...
research dito...reaction dun...docu dito....assignmetn dun...
haay hrap ng buhay estudyante..
klangang mgpaka-lastikman man para mging flexible...
look nman di pa man din kc nttpos ang isang research sa isang subject meron n kaagad na ksunod...da? ang hrap kaya ng sabay2!!
but anyway my mggwa b ako?su2nod din nman ako...
takot q lang di mkpsa...hehehe
the next thing dat happen ay e2..busy sa lhat ng trabaho as an S.A. its not that hard pero nkkpressure lang sa tym...i niid to be extra flexible (as in more flexible than lastik man!!)
another thing is ung docu nmin about a working student...not that typical working student
but a student giving extra as in super extra work for her costumer...ang hrap kaya mkspot
nun..daig p ang manghuhuli ng magnanakaw sa akto?
grabe tlga ang TIP hahasain ka sa project and research works....
haay...haay....haay...ganyan tlaga ang buhay sapagkat isa kangg istudyante...
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
By Joshua Harris
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed."
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.
I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Friday, August 8, 2008
What you are supposed to do...and please don't spoil the fun... Click copy/paste, type in your answers and tag four people in your lists! Don't forget to change my answers to the questions with that of your own.(^^,)
***********Here it goes************
(A) Four places I go over and over:
bahay, Divisoria,legarda and school(routine q s araw2).
(B) Four people who e-mail me regularly:
Ate Love(s blog..sipag),funbox(miranda dw),astrology(lhat ng link pinasok n)and ulysses(pano mtakaw sa cabal).
(C) Four of my favorite places to eat?
Sa tabi ng Mb+(khit 1sang oras bgo k mkkain),sa canteen(pg my baon),jollibee(always pg inabutan ng gutom ksma ni sis) and kfc(abot kaya ang sarap).
(D) Four places you'd rather be?
1. Sa roof top ng bhay kaso wla kming rooftop kay rooftop n lng ng kapitbahay..i love watching stars.
2. Sa dagat..mgaaladyesebel ako s gbi..i love to swim in the night(wlang tao khit mgtwo peice ako).
3.Sa province,ung bundok n tambayan ko noong hayskul ako..para kcing peaceful ang buhay q dun.
4. Sa kwarto together with an ipod playing my favorite songs and writing stories.
(E) Four people I think will respond:
Si Chris, a friend, love and micheal. (sana magrespond sila.hehe)
(F) Four TV shows I could watch over and over:
korea novelas, and am....wla n d n ako mkpanood ng t.v e....
Now, I'm tagging:a friend, Chris, micheal and love.
Thanks to Fjordz for making this exciting 'tagged' game posible.
Finally I'm tagged.
Now it's Your turn.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
every time I'm in emptiness?
why do i feel the weakness
every time I'm in restlessness?
why do this feeling of gentleness
defies the internal truthfulness?
why in my silent happiness
hiding my loud bitterness?
Is it myself that i must have blame?
why do i still kept myself
and suit in this small shelf?
why do i still felt like a leaf
that just go by the swift?
why do i feel being left
when everyone is here but to thief?
why do i threated like a deaf
who listen briefly without an ear?
Is it myself that i must have blame?
why do i question everything in why?
why do this question answered with a lie?
how can i ended this questions and fly?
when I'm in loneliness-I don't know why?
Loneliness can kill the heart that lies.
Loneliness can break the mind that hides.
Eyes of the beholder can't stop but cry
Keeping the freedom and live just to die.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
I'm in the foot of my little Dopey,
Doing things in a mood of stupidly;
Making myself scared of reality.
I'm in the middle of heart rattling,
Fear of the crowd that feels like calling;
Can't think of right things for keeping,
Instead suit myself seek for smiling.
And just in time Ive turn to glance,
The time had stop my heart start to dance;
With a wandering look that halted in the eyes,
I've seen a heart that is cold like ice.
The tension grow when he got close,
Ive heard loud footsteps as it goes;
My heart start to tremble when it talked,
To wish to be the words that softly spoke.
The words that comes in his soft lips,
Seen by the angels whose awake not asleep;
As he had shown those shivering killer smile,
I've seen the sadness-it is hiding,it's a lie.
I'm wandering now how mysterious he can be,
With such appealing gesture captured me;
The secrets can't be mention needs an exemption,
I'm craving to know co'z your my inspiration.
Friday, July 18, 2008
This people are the antagonist in the eyes of Ekang and in addition to that is their beloved little home which is being rented to be the shabu then of their buyers. And he little sister who is a month old.
Ekang is just a kid who already sees drugs and how to take it at her young age. She is always there whenever her mother and the buyer having a shabu sessions inside their house. This is not new to eking because she thought that it was just a game like what her grandmother told her.
Her Father loves her so much that’s why it really do anything just to fill her needs. If her income from pedicab Driving is not enough. He has own sideline in the night. He is holdapping someone along the dark street miles away from home.
Ekang’s mother and grandmother were rich before because of the heard they’ve got from the Grandmother of Ekang when it die.They are just wasting their money and not using in for more useful things it slowly gone form them and they become poor. They hard to find something to fill in their aching stomach so Ekang’s grandmother decided to be a hostess when she was young just to have her children something to buy food and that is the kind of life Ekang’s mother have grown. She also became a prostitute that which is hidden from Ekang’s grandmother. She gave fantasy in exchange of money just to have something to eat. And time goes by she has a husband she stop being a prostitute instead she became a drug pusher and ekang’s grandmother became a "bugaw" Their life became a cycle that the uncle of Ekang became so ashamed of his life. He is only 15 years old and yet he already smoke, drink alcoholic and instead of going to school he go to computer shop and spent the whole day playing counter strike or dota. Since he was a kid it’s not a big secret to him about what kind of family he has. He had known everything when he was young and now he just wish that it is not the kind of family he belongs with. He became a silent rebel in his own and kept all the feelings inside him for not having a good life in this family he has. When he is all alone at night, he drunk and smoke in his own and made drinking his companion through all his problem in his family.
A special day come to them, the baptismal of the baby they were all dressed, no visitor or godmother and godfather except to Kara David and no food preparation. It was the first time they became complete just only in the house of god. While the baby is being blessed by water they all have their prayers in their mind. A prayer that the baby they are gathering around might not experience the life they have experiencing right now, That the baby might have much better life unlike to them. That someday they will changed and might have a better life to life.
This Document is a Great eye opener for me. It shows a peculiar kind of life poverty people have. The poverty that still pulling the filipino people buried in it.
In this Document "Sa mga mata ni Ekang" I’ve observe the kind of life a child like ekang have. It is not easy to be in her place. A young mind who had seen poverty in her family and made drug pusher, bugaw and holdap as their means of survival. It’s a pity thing that even the baby who had nothing yet to known in the world is being prone to a life of Destroying and damaging of each their lives. I don’t understand why they have to allow this to happen. Maybe it so easy for me to say that everything that Ekang’s family is doing were wrong it’s more hard for me to accept the fact that those people really choose this kind of life to live to.
In his Father, I’m impressed by the love given by the father to eking in spite of the works and sideline he really do things for eking, But to think of it he can use that love to change himself for good and start a big changes but then he don’t. Why? Because its not only the poverty but also he like what he is doing. He like holdapping or snatching something from someone.
On Ekang’s mother, honesty her reason for being a drug pusher can be thrown in the dungeon. She said that She needs to do it for her daughter to have something to eat. But there’s always a way in solving a certain thing its not easy but who says life is easy? Maybe he could make a change for the sake of the baby she is carrying but she don’t, in fact she still joining in taking drugs even she is giving breast milk to her baby. What kind of mother would do that thing. It may cause bad effect to the health of the baby. If she cant really stop taking drugs maybe she could let her baby have it artificial or something that can replace breast milk… Its better bottled milk, commercial milk.
On Ekang’s grandmother for having that kind of children is her fault because it all started to her parents is the model of their children as long they have seen their parents doing such things they intend to do it also because they thought its good. This is what had happen to Ekang’s grandmother and mother. She allows her children to do what she do and now this is the life they have seeing them allowing their daughters watch them taking drugs inside their house, and allowing to be one of the cancer of the society.
On Ekang’s Uncle, I pity him not for having that kind of family but for loosing hope that his family might change or maybe that someday they became rich if he just study well and dream to be not like her sister and mother maybe if he could have been a strong person to face this situation on his life he could have seen a big change for his family and nephew. But then he didn’t also acted as of the bad model on her nephew.
And to Ekang, for a family, environment And life she has I couldn’t say can never be like them because a person embraces the environment he has and I can say she can adopt the environment she has When she grow older if her mother and other members of the family didn’t do any thing to prevent that.
I cant predict what might happen to ekang and her sister but I’m hoping they are both different from their family.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
I'm here at the open lab of the school spending my time typing in my blog.I'm so occupied of so many things and I'm wandering what if I looses thinking of those "many things" in my head.I'm starting to feel the emptiness of something to think and it's feels like having a surprise examination and i don't know what to answer.
Honestly I'm so bored it is the first time I've spend this boredom typing in my blog.OMG! wala akong magawa! I'm watching and observing other people around me.I don't know why they don't entertain me with different things they are doing but i love watching them being busy with their own business in life.
I'm observing the expressions in their faces and I admit that it is funny noticing their own style of expressing their faces.The movement of their lips every time they smile or show happiness,anger,smirk,and irritated.They have their funny looks in spite of the good looks the have or the charismatic aura they posses.
This students around me doesn't even know that I'm having fun of watching their movements and staring at their faces.I'm kinda weird that I'm making them a clown in my own world of fantasy and happiness. What kind of woman I am I'm so naughty and mean in my own silent way.
Maybe if someone notice me they will thought that I'm such a crazy little woman of thinking such a ridiculous thing.Maybe I am but I love the way I am this is the things I've been returning to when i feel the boredom in me.It's not funny for others but this what makes me happy and contented in my life.I'd choose being like this rather than to be someone I'm not.
I respect their opinion but i hope they also respect my own perspective in life.I maybe a child act lady but I know where to act a lady in my own stand and discipline.I love being like this no doubt for this thing.
Maybe next time I feel the boredom in me I should more open and use my wild imagination to make new things to post in here.