When I was a child, I used to hang stockings and pray that Santa would fill them up. And Santa always do, but he never seemed to get my message correctly because he always end up giving me the things I did not ask for. But I always keep the gifts I find in my stockings and always hope that Santa would find the time to listen more carefully to my prayers the next time I ask.
Well, Santa never did. So I stopped asking for gifts from him. I stopped hanging my stockings and stopped expecting for his gifts. There are no more stockings to fill, so what will I expect?
Its been years since the last time I ask Santa for a gift, and I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask again. Would Santa listen to a 19 year old? I should think not. I think everybody could be a child regardless of age. Age is just a number, childhood is in the heart.
But then, this Christmas, I wouldn't ask my gift from Santa. I think it would be much better if I ask it directly from his superior, Christ, for whom Christmas is celebrated.
This year, I'll ask Christ to bless my family. I would ask him to heal the wounds that each of us feels. I'll pray to Him so He would strengthen my family, so He could stop them from hurting each other, so He could make them love each other again.
I hope Christ will let me see my friends. Those who have left and has been gone for a long time. I hope He would give me the chance to see them again.
I pray to Christ that my family will know love and happiness again. I hope He could make them see the importance of each one and stop hating each other. I hope Christ will make them stop competing with each other and make them see that they compliment each other.
I hope Christ will give me the power to make people stop hating each other, so I could do something for the world.
And if Christ is really listening to the desires of my heart, I wish He could send these gifts right away so we could spend a truly happy Christmas this year.
And I hope he'll make Santa hear more clearly, so he'll stop sending me the wrong gifts...
Monday, December 22, 2008
What are friends for?
"...there aren't any such things as good friends and bad friends--maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you're hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they're always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for, too, if that's what has to be. No good friends, no bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart."(from the book, "IT" by Stephen King)
Do they always have to be beside us for them to be called friend? Do they need to be like us so we could be friends?
Friends are people who makes us laugh when we are about to cry, lightens our world when it suddenly goes dark, keeps our feet planted firmly on the ground when our big heads are already making us float. Sometimes they hurt us with their words, choke us with actions, irritates us with their unsolicited advices and annoys the heck out of us with their over-protectiveness but at the end of the day, they are still the people we never hesitate to hang out with.
Friends are people who accepts us with no buts and ifs. Helps us see our mistakes and helps in correcting them. They are people who will not hesitate to point our mistakes and praise our achievements. They are the first to applaud when we succeed, the first to pick us up when we fail, clean us up when we make a mess of ourselves, and sometimes, makes the mess with us.
Sometimes, they are people who will take the bullet from you.
True friends don't get angry at you when you meet and befriend new people. They don't get mad when you hang out with others. They treasure you but never claims ownership. They allow you to roam the world, meet you new people, and discover new things. They don't stop you from scraping your knees but helps you put a bad-aid on it.
They are the people who will sometimes let you fall and then catch you when you are almost on the ground. They let you do things even when they know that you'll probably get hurt in the end because they know that pain will make you stronger and will help you learn. And if after you still don't learn, they are also the first ones who will not hesitate to slap you to wake your senses.
But what are friends really for?
I don't know. Maybe they're just there to prove to us that angels do exist. And so are devils.
Vampire Wars?
Oh sure, Robert Pattinson is one gorgeous guy. But I don't like him as a vampire. And he will never be as gorgeous as my Lestat.
In Twilight, Edward is a 79 years old vampire who has fallen in love with the 17 year old Isabella Swann. A modern day Romeo and Juliet with a twist. Of course, as a vampire, he is pretty poetic in his dialogues and so is Lestat. In fact, Lestat is more poetic than he is.
So who is Lestat? Well, he is the 200 year old vampire, forever trapped inside the body of his 21 year-old mortal self, in Ann Rice's Vampire Chronicle series (Interview with a Vampire, Vampire Lestat, Queen of the Damned, etc.). He is rogue and elegant, powerful, cunning, and eccentric. And he is definitely more intelligent than Edward Cullen.
Definitely more handsome too (he was portrayed by Tom Cruise in the movie "Intrerview with the vampire" and Stuart Townsend in "Queen of the Damned"). And talking about handsome, well, the vampire Louis is even more handsome than Edward. (in the photo) (left Tom Cruise as Lestat and Brad Pitt-right, as Louis)
When it comes to depth, the Vampire Chronicles is more philosophical. A battle, not between the good and the evil, but between a man and himself. A man torn between his nature as a vampire and his conscience. A man who is evil because he has to kill to live but also a man whose only dream is to become a saint.
Imagine that? A vampire who want to be a saint. Lestat maybe vain, egocentric, materialistic, fiend but he surely one charming and lovable brat-prince. Because that is what exactly he is, a brat prince of the vampires. He is too powerful that even he, could not kill himself. (Photo: Stuart Townsend as Lestat in Queen of the Damned)
Lestat is more intriguing. He speaks like a philosopher, acts like a child who has to get whatever he needs, and sometimes behaves like the fiend that he is.
Of course, in the movies, its a battle between who is the most handsome vampire. But in the world of literature? I find the Vampire Chronicles deeper and thought-provoking than the Twilight Series.
It is not a story of two lovestruck teenagers who happens to be as compatible as the spider and the fly, the vampire chronicles talks more of the complexity of the human spirit, the struggle between being evil and being good, and the complexity of the idea of heaven and hell.
The story in Twilight is a story that has been told a thousand times already. It is the story of the frog prince and the princess, the story of beauty and the beast, and so on. It is a story of two people from different worlds (and yes, different species also) who falls in love and conquers the odds. Told in different ways but ends up all the same.
But how are you going to conquer yourself? How are you going to be good when you are made to be evil? When you live in evil? When you are the literal personification of evil? How can you dream of saving the world when you have to kill to live? How can you justify heaven and God when you are seen as the minion of Satan? How can you dream to be mortal when ordinary people would kill just to be immortal?
Intriguing, funny, thought provoking, a piece of literature that is meant to conquer the years and proliferate regardless of generation. Lestat is one character who is as enigmatic as the Quantum, as mysterious as the stonehenge and will probably live through time like the legends of Hercules and the Atlantis.
He is one monster I would very much love to keep under my bed. He is one devil I would never mind meeting. A vampire I would gladly offer my blood to. He is mine, and I am his.
In Twilight, Edward is a 79 years old vampire who has fallen in love with the 17 year old Isabella Swann. A modern day Romeo and Juliet with a twist. Of course, as a vampire, he is pretty poetic in his dialogues and so is Lestat. In fact, Lestat is more poetic than he is.
So who is Lestat? Well, he is the 200 year old vampire, forever trapped inside the body of his 21 year-old mortal self, in Ann Rice's Vampire Chronicle series (Interview with a Vampire, Vampire Lestat, Queen of the Damned, etc.). He is rogue and elegant, powerful, cunning, and eccentric. And he is definitely more intelligent than Edward Cullen.
Definitely more handsome too (he was portrayed by Tom Cruise in the movie "Intrerview with the vampire" and Stuart Townsend in "Queen of the Damned"). And talking about handsome, well, the vampire Louis is even more handsome than Edward. (in the photo) (left Tom Cruise as Lestat and Brad Pitt-right, as Louis)When it comes to depth, the Vampire Chronicles is more philosophical. A battle, not between the good and the evil, but between a man and himself. A man torn between his nature as a vampire and his conscience. A man who is evil because he has to kill to live but also a man whose only dream is to become a saint.
Imagine that? A vampire who want to be a saint. Lestat maybe vain, egocentric, materialistic, fiend but he surely one charming and lovable brat-prince. Because that is what exactly he is, a brat prince of the vampires. He is too powerful that even he, could not kill himself. (Photo: Stuart Townsend as Lestat in Queen of the Damned)
Lestat is more intriguing. He speaks like a philosopher, acts like a child who has to get whatever he needs, and sometimes behaves like the fiend that he is.
Of course, in the movies, its a battle between who is the most handsome vampire. But in the world of literature? I find the Vampire Chronicles deeper and thought-provoking than the Twilight Series.
It is not a story of two lovestruck teenagers who happens to be as compatible as the spider and the fly, the vampire chronicles talks more of the complexity of the human spirit, the struggle between being evil and being good, and the complexity of the idea of heaven and hell.
The story in Twilight is a story that has been told a thousand times already. It is the story of the frog prince and the princess, the story of beauty and the beast, and so on. It is a story of two people from different worlds (and yes, different species also) who falls in love and conquers the odds. Told in different ways but ends up all the same.
But how are you going to conquer yourself? How are you going to be good when you are made to be evil? When you live in evil? When you are the literal personification of evil? How can you dream of saving the world when you have to kill to live? How can you justify heaven and God when you are seen as the minion of Satan? How can you dream to be mortal when ordinary people would kill just to be immortal?
Intriguing, funny, thought provoking, a piece of literature that is meant to conquer the years and proliferate regardless of generation. Lestat is one character who is as enigmatic as the Quantum, as mysterious as the stonehenge and will probably live through time like the legends of Hercules and the Atlantis.
He is one monster I would very much love to keep under my bed. He is one devil I would never mind meeting. A vampire I would gladly offer my blood to. He is mine, and I am his.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
questions
Have you ever experienced waking up in the middle of the night and suddenly doubtful of your existence?
Sometimes I do.
There are times when I wake up asking myself if I am really in this world or If everything is an imagination. Sometimes I would question the reality of what I am seeing around me. There are times when I would even ask myself if the people around me really exists or if all of them are just fragments of my imagination. And of course, what about my own existence? Am I really here or am I just an imagination?
I know its crazy. But there it is.
Is everything real or is everything abstract?
Honestly, sometimes I am not really sure.
Sometimes I do.
There are times when I wake up asking myself if I am really in this world or If everything is an imagination. Sometimes I would question the reality of what I am seeing around me. There are times when I would even ask myself if the people around me really exists or if all of them are just fragments of my imagination. And of course, what about my own existence? Am I really here or am I just an imagination?
I know its crazy. But there it is.
Is everything real or is everything abstract?
Honestly, sometimes I am not really sure.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Raindrops and Hot Chocolates
The tears and the rain seem to have one thing in common; they always fall when you don’t want them to.
The rain has been pouring for almost an hour and the world around me starts to get flooded. The wind blowing in the background reminds me of a time not so long ago – a time that I would prefer not to remember.
It’s in times like this that I would find myself wishing I was at home again – a five-year old kid sitting by the stairs, listening to the wind, waiting for the rain to stop, and secured in a little haven I used to call home. As the rain continues to pour, I see myself again in that afternoon fourteen years ago, sitting by the stairs with my elder brother. I was crying, scared to death by the thunder and lightning and clinging to my brother hoping that his presence would drive away the sound. It is this exact memory that would always flash in my mind every time it storms. It is this memory that makes me wish there was no rain.
Needless to say, the memory was of long ago. It may seem a memory of comfort, a memory of a brother’s love for a sister, but it is this memory that would often bring tears into my eyes. It is the mere fact that it is nothing but a memory and could never be brought back again. The thought hurts me and makes me hate it even more.
You see, fourteen years after that stormy afternoon, everything became so different. From that comforting scene, only the rain, the thunder, and the lightning remained. Gone is the home that used to comfort me, gone is the tearful little girl crying scared because of the rain and gone is the little boy who used to give me security and promised to build me a big house with a 24-hour lock system when he grows up.
Yes, everything is just a memory now. The boy is now a man and like everything else around me, so different from the boy who once sat beside me, covered my ears and told me that everything will be alright.
Every raindrop reminds me of the games we used to play, the hours we spent with each other, and the many other things we did. I remembered we used to make paper planes and paper boats on rainy days. I remember the hot chocolate that kept us company in moments as desolate as that stormy afternoon and the hugs that were as warm as the drink. I remember the time when we were both scolded for playing along the drainage but we never really cared; as long as were together, we were happy. I used to love the rain then. With my brother, it always meant fun.
But that was before. Home has long been forgotten, the memory erased but not entirely gone, and the hot chocolate has long gone cold. What can I give just to bring back the brother that was once mine? How I wish the pouring rain could somehow transport me back to that time of long ago. And if it couldn’t, I wish God would stop sending the rain so I wouldn’t have to get hurt anymore.
Yes, he is gone. In his place is a man I could hardly call a brother; devoid of warmth and recognition. His once innocent aura has already been replaced with something that is only a notch lower than ominous. His once gentle voice has been replaced by a booming nasty one. My source of comfort has become my source of pain.
Of course, it is now unlikely that we play in the rain and it is also impossible for time to freeze just to bring me back to that day, fourteen years ago.
I know it’s not impossible though to bring back a thing from the past. If God could send in the rain, He could bring my brother back to me. I am not asking for the treasures of the world, I only want my brother back.
I could hate the rain forever and I know that I could never bring back my brother’s old self. I could only sit by the stairs again, listen to the rain with my hot chocolate in hand and hope that one of these days, my brother would sit beside me like he used to do. Only then will the tears stop falling.
The rain has been pouring for almost an hour and the world around me starts to get flooded. The wind blowing in the background reminds me of a time not so long ago – a time that I would prefer not to remember.
It’s in times like this that I would find myself wishing I was at home again – a five-year old kid sitting by the stairs, listening to the wind, waiting for the rain to stop, and secured in a little haven I used to call home. As the rain continues to pour, I see myself again in that afternoon fourteen years ago, sitting by the stairs with my elder brother. I was crying, scared to death by the thunder and lightning and clinging to my brother hoping that his presence would drive away the sound. It is this exact memory that would always flash in my mind every time it storms. It is this memory that makes me wish there was no rain.
Needless to say, the memory was of long ago. It may seem a memory of comfort, a memory of a brother’s love for a sister, but it is this memory that would often bring tears into my eyes. It is the mere fact that it is nothing but a memory and could never be brought back again. The thought hurts me and makes me hate it even more.You see, fourteen years after that stormy afternoon, everything became so different. From that comforting scene, only the rain, the thunder, and the lightning remained. Gone is the home that used to comfort me, gone is the tearful little girl crying scared because of the rain and gone is the little boy who used to give me security and promised to build me a big house with a 24-hour lock system when he grows up.
Yes, everything is just a memory now. The boy is now a man and like everything else around me, so different from the boy who once sat beside me, covered my ears and told me that everything will be alright.
Every raindrop reminds me of the games we used to play, the hours we spent with each other, and the many other things we did. I remembered we used to make paper planes and paper boats on rainy days. I remember the hot chocolate that kept us company in moments as desolate as that stormy afternoon and the hugs that were as warm as the drink. I remember the time when we were both scolded for playing along the drainage but we never really cared; as long as were together, we were happy. I used to love the rain then. With my brother, it always meant fun.
But that was before. Home has long been forgotten, the memory erased but not entirely gone, and the hot chocolate has long gone cold. What can I give just to bring back the brother that was once mine? How I wish the pouring rain could somehow transport me back to that time of long ago. And if it couldn’t, I wish God would stop sending the rain so I wouldn’t have to get hurt anymore.
Yes, he is gone. In his place is a man I could hardly call a brother; devoid of warmth and recognition. His once innocent aura has already been replaced with something that is only a notch lower than ominous. His once gentle voice has been replaced by a booming nasty one. My source of comfort has become my source of pain.
Of course, it is now unlikely that we play in the rain and it is also impossible for time to freeze just to bring me back to that day, fourteen years ago.
I know it’s not impossible though to bring back a thing from the past. If God could send in the rain, He could bring my brother back to me. I am not asking for the treasures of the world, I only want my brother back.
I could hate the rain forever and I know that I could never bring back my brother’s old self. I could only sit by the stairs again, listen to the rain with my hot chocolate in hand and hope that one of these days, my brother would sit beside me like he used to do. Only then will the tears stop falling.
The Road to success...
…is under construction
The road to success is temporarily blocked and unless you go and find another way, you’ll never get pass. Success is a road that is always under construction. Delays are normal and road bumps are to be expected.
You can’t blame anybody for the delay though, or for the potholes along the way. The road has only one maintenance man, one care taker, one engineer: YOU. It’s a highway that is unique in itself. It is the only road in the world where you are not allowed to just sit and wait for other people to cover the potholes for you or put asphalts in the pavement. You have to do it your way or you suffer. There is no other way.
Success is a long road; a long winding, scary, bumpy, adventurous, challenging, and rough road full of twists and turns. You never know what lies ahead. The biggest troubles and surprises lies in this road. The views are far from scenic and are often boring that very seldom chooses this road though a lot would want to travel it.
A lot of people would try to find the shortest route towards their goal; a shortcut, the easiest way to reach the pedestal. But very few realize that the real road to success has no shortcuts. If you really want to reach the zenith you have to travel the long winding road. And this is the only surest and proven way to succeed.
Like normal roads, road blocks are also common. Sometimes these blocks are so huge that it takes time before you could get through it. Of course, sometimes detours are unavoidable. It lengthens your journey but it would surely get you there.
We all make our own roads. We are the ones who construct the highways of our lives. Every road we choose to travel paves the way to our destiny. We sometimes make a mistake and choose a path that leads us to nowhere or get lucky and choose the road less traveled. Whatever your decision is, the road you choose directs you to the kind of life you are going to live.
Crossroads, intersections, road blocks, all these are parts of the journey. Whichever of these we encounter, we all have to make the same decisions and given the same questions. Which road will you take? We decide with one thought, or perhaps without even thinking at all, it is a decision that could change our lives.
It is a very hard decision indeed. We have to choose with very limited option knowing that choosing the wrong way could make or break our dreams. On the lighter side, choosing the wrong way could also lead us to another way that is more exciting and self-fulfilling than the other way. Mistakes teach us to become better persons anyway. What matters is we learn from it and avoid it.
The road to success is long and hard but at the end of the journey is the end of the rainbow with the pot of gold, or, it could also be a pot of stone. One can never really be sure.
The road to success is temporarily blocked and unless you go and find another way, you’ll never get pass. Success is a road that is always under construction. Delays are normal and road bumps are to be expected.
You can’t blame anybody for the delay though, or for the potholes along the way. The road has only one maintenance man, one care taker, one engineer: YOU. It’s a highway that is unique in itself. It is the only road in the world where you are not allowed to just sit and wait for other people to cover the potholes for you or put asphalts in the pavement. You have to do it your way or you suffer. There is no other way.
Success is a long road; a long winding, scary, bumpy, adventurous, challenging, and rough road full of twists and turns. You never know what lies ahead. The biggest troubles and surprises lies in this road. The views are far from scenic and are often boring that very seldom chooses this road though a lot would want to travel it.
A lot of people would try to find the shortest route towards their goal; a shortcut, the easiest way to reach the pedestal. But very few realize that the real road to success has no shortcuts. If you really want to reach the zenith you have to travel the long winding road. And this is the only surest and proven way to succeed.
Like normal roads, road blocks are also common. Sometimes these blocks are so huge that it takes time before you could get through it. Of course, sometimes detours are unavoidable. It lengthens your journey but it would surely get you there.
We all make our own roads. We are the ones who construct the highways of our lives. Every road we choose to travel paves the way to our destiny. We sometimes make a mistake and choose a path that leads us to nowhere or get lucky and choose the road less traveled. Whatever your decision is, the road you choose directs you to the kind of life you are going to live.
Crossroads, intersections, road blocks, all these are parts of the journey. Whichever of these we encounter, we all have to make the same decisions and given the same questions. Which road will you take? We decide with one thought, or perhaps without even thinking at all, it is a decision that could change our lives.
It is a very hard decision indeed. We have to choose with very limited option knowing that choosing the wrong way could make or break our dreams. On the lighter side, choosing the wrong way could also lead us to another way that is more exciting and self-fulfilling than the other way. Mistakes teach us to become better persons anyway. What matters is we learn from it and avoid it.
The road to success is long and hard but at the end of the journey is the end of the rainbow with the pot of gold, or, it could also be a pot of stone. One can never really be sure.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Life and Death
So how would person feel if he is dying? I always wonder. How would it feel lying there, alone and taking what could probably be your last breathe? How would it feel seeing yourself inside a coffin (Presuming that ghosts are true.
Death is probably the most mysterious thing in the world. Nobody alive knows what lies behind its veils.The people who knows are obviously in no condition to tell us.
But why? Why do we have to die?…
Yes of course.."For the wages of sin is death…"
Sometimes i think it is so unfair that we struggle and sacrifice in this world only to die in the end. And take note, to die without anything. What legacy we may have left in this world (if there is) would be eventually forgotten by those we left.
We would only be forgotten and left rotting inside a reqtangular concrete "box". We would have nothing but the worms,roaches,grass and the ocassional flowers left by those who could remember.
MAybe that is why material things are nothing. Mere decorations of life. When you die not even the worlds most expensive jewelry could make you beautiful. Everybody would look the same, rotting corpse and grinning skeletons.
I guess it does not matter how long we had lived in this world but how much we had contributed. Not how rich we had lived but how well we would be remembered.
legacy. Only legacies. There would be nothing left but legacies.
If there's no tomorrow
If your life would end today, how do you want to be remembered?
If there would be no tomorrow, how will you spend this day?
If this is the last day of your life, who would you spend it with?
If you have reached the end the road, what will be the first thing you will do?
If you are given a chance to leave a final message, what will you say?
If this is would be the last time that you will be posting a blog, what will be the title of your post?
If this is your last hour on earth, what will you do?
So many questions...
waiting for your answers.
If there would be no tomorrow, how will you spend this day?
If this is the last day of your life, who would you spend it with?
If you have reached the end the road, what will be the first thing you will do?If you are given a chance to leave a final message, what will you say?
If this is would be the last time that you will be posting a blog, what will be the title of your post?
If this is your last hour on earth, what will you do?
So many questions...
waiting for your answers.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Perfectly Imperfect
"Nobody's perfect".
We hear it commonly enough. We have always perceive this world as imperfect no matter how many times we try to convince ourselves that its otherwise. There will always be flaws and nothing is ever enough.
But I don't honestly agree that there is no such thing as perfect in this world. I think perfection is simply a state of mind. We think nothing is perfect because we, unconsciously, look for the faults in everything happening to us instead of accepting everything as a part of our lives.
Imperfection makes our lives perfect. It is these tiny flaws that confirms our existence as mere biological beings who will always be susceptible to commit mistakes. It is these mistakes, big and small, that help us learn. It is our learning that molds us to be the person that we are meant to be. It is what we are that makes the world perfect.
I don't believe that we are ever imperfect for we are created by no other than The Most High and not by some bored geneticist. We are not born out of a catastrophe like what the Big Bang theory suggests. We were created by God with love.
Perfection is a state of mind. That is why it differs from one person to another. Things does not necessarily have to be expensive or gigantic to be perfect. A simple thing could be perfect.
The balance created by good and bad makes the world perfect. The pains and joys we encounter makes the world perfect. All these makes the world perfect because it confirms our being. The existence of good and evil is a sure proof that we are still alive and earthbound.
because the perception of perfection differs from one person to another, nobody could really say that our world is perfect. We see flaws, we see errors, we see mistakes but that also makes the world perfect.
Failures and success. Pains and laughter. trials and triumphs. All these makes our world perfect, for what is life without it?
We hear it commonly enough. We have always perceive this world as imperfect no matter how many times we try to convince ourselves that its otherwise. There will always be flaws and nothing is ever enough.
But I don't honestly agree that there is no such thing as perfect in this world. I think perfection is simply a state of mind. We think nothing is perfect because we, unconsciously, look for the faults in everything happening to us instead of accepting everything as a part of our lives.
Imperfection makes our lives perfect. It is these tiny flaws that confirms our existence as mere biological beings who will always be susceptible to commit mistakes. It is these mistakes, big and small, that help us learn. It is our learning that molds us to be the person that we are meant to be. It is what we are that makes the world perfect.
I don't believe that we are ever imperfect for we are created by no other than The Most High and not by some bored geneticist. We are not born out of a catastrophe like what the Big Bang theory suggests. We were created by God with love.
Perfection is a state of mind. That is why it differs from one person to another. Things does not necessarily have to be expensive or gigantic to be perfect. A simple thing could be perfect.
The balance created by good and bad makes the world perfect. The pains and joys we encounter makes the world perfect. All these makes the world perfect because it confirms our being. The existence of good and evil is a sure proof that we are still alive and earthbound.
because the perception of perfection differs from one person to another, nobody could really say that our world is perfect. We see flaws, we see errors, we see mistakes but that also makes the world perfect.
Failures and success. Pains and laughter. trials and triumphs. All these makes our world perfect, for what is life without it?
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Bathroom thoughts: random and unplotted
What makes the world evil? have you ever wondered? What makes us hurt the people we love? And why do we push them away if they are important to us? There are a lot of unfathomable things in this world.
Little by little we step into the unknowns. Everyday is a void, a dark space that hides the things that we have to and want to see.
Isn't it a wonder why those we cared for the most are often the first ones taken from us? Why do we always have to be left behind with the people that we don't like? Maybe because God knows that we can never learn to like or love those we don't want while those we adore are still with us. Maybe God knows that we can only appreciate the people around us when they are the only ones we have left.
Every human being is intrinsically evil as they are intrinsically good. We all have our evils sides. No matter how pious or angelic we may be, we all have the tendency to do evil. On the same manner, we also have the tendency to do good no matter how bad we may be.
God gave us eyes to see the beauty of the world but why do we often see evil than good. Why do we see the ugly things more often than those that are pleasant. Is it because we are born with a blindspot for everything that is good? Or is it because we can simply appreciate more those that are wrong than those things that are right?
Are we evil? Are humans really that bad? We know what is good and right yet we do what is wrong. We despise others if they do the things we know as bad but we do those things ourselves.
I guess it is true that man's greatest enemy is himself. I guess, scientists had it wrong when they concluded that we are the most intelligent of all the species. Aside from being both good and evil, man is intrinsically stupid. He knows what is right but he keeps on doing what is wrong. We are stupid enough to create things we know would only harm us in the end. We are stupid enough to submit to our whims even if we know what will happen after. We are stupid no matter how much we try to educate our selves. We know the secrets of the depths, created machines that made our lives easier, machines that made the world better yet uglier and deadlier at the same time; we know a lot of things yet we are stupid.
We are all hypocrites pretending, and insisting to the point of death, that what we are doing is the most righteous way to do when we know deep inside that we are wrong all along.
The world is full of mysteries and questions. Nobody can answer and we can only keep on questioning without getting anything. The more we try to understand the world the more the more unfathomable it becomes. We uncover one mystery then we are plagued by ten more mysteries.
Questions. Life is full of questions but it offers very few answers.
[note: copied from my other blog.]
Little by little we step into the unknowns. Everyday is a void, a dark space that hides the things that we have to and want to see.
Isn't it a wonder why those we cared for the most are often the first ones taken from us? Why do we always have to be left behind with the people that we don't like? Maybe because God knows that we can never learn to like or love those we don't want while those we adore are still with us. Maybe God knows that we can only appreciate the people around us when they are the only ones we have left.
Every human being is intrinsically evil as they are intrinsically good. We all have our evils sides. No matter how pious or angelic we may be, we all have the tendency to do evil. On the same manner, we also have the tendency to do good no matter how bad we may be.
God gave us eyes to see the beauty of the world but why do we often see evil than good. Why do we see the ugly things more often than those that are pleasant. Is it because we are born with a blindspot for everything that is good? Or is it because we can simply appreciate more those that are wrong than those things that are right?
Are we evil? Are humans really that bad? We know what is good and right yet we do what is wrong. We despise others if they do the things we know as bad but we do those things ourselves.
I guess it is true that man's greatest enemy is himself. I guess, scientists had it wrong when they concluded that we are the most intelligent of all the species. Aside from being both good and evil, man is intrinsically stupid. He knows what is right but he keeps on doing what is wrong. We are stupid enough to create things we know would only harm us in the end. We are stupid enough to submit to our whims even if we know what will happen after. We are stupid no matter how much we try to educate our selves. We know the secrets of the depths, created machines that made our lives easier, machines that made the world better yet uglier and deadlier at the same time; we know a lot of things yet we are stupid.
We are all hypocrites pretending, and insisting to the point of death, that what we are doing is the most righteous way to do when we know deep inside that we are wrong all along.
The world is full of mysteries and questions. Nobody can answer and we can only keep on questioning without getting anything. The more we try to understand the world the more the more unfathomable it becomes. We uncover one mystery then we are plagued by ten more mysteries.
Questions. Life is full of questions but it offers very few answers.
[note: copied from my other blog.]
Finding Myself
If you look in the mirror what do you see?
Once, I tried gazing at myself in front of the mirror. I looked as intently as I could trying to find something that could make me different from the rest.
I looked and looked but I found nothing. Everything in me is ordinary. I am so ordinary. Left in a crowd, I will never stand out. I am not bitter though. Being invisible suites me just fine. I prefer not to be seen by the people around me. I prefer to blend in the crowd.
I looked beyond the reflection I see in the mirror and I did not like what I saw. On the outside I am nothing and on the inside, I am something. Something dreadful.
The mirror could not show beauty, it could show me what I really am. I am a creature devoid of creativity. I lack a sense of fun. I am stubborn and aloof. I am as uninteresting as the leaves falling from the trees. People will not look twice when they see me.
I tried to change. I tried to be different. I tried to be light and creative. But the old me refuses to go under. I tried so hard but it only made me unhappy. I lost myself as I try to find my place in this world. In my attempt to fit in, I lost the real me. I was never the same again.
I was bad and I tried to be good. I got what I wanted when I wished to be different. I was different but I was never happy. I was bad at being bad and I was worst at being good. I only wanted to correct the mistakes but never felt right.
I lost myself and so I tried to find it. I searched and searched and I almost failed. If only I could merge the old and the new me. If only it's not so hard to be good.
if only...
Once, I tried gazing at myself in front of the mirror. I looked as intently as I could trying to find something that could make me different from the rest.
I looked and looked but I found nothing. Everything in me is ordinary. I am so ordinary. Left in a crowd, I will never stand out. I am not bitter though. Being invisible suites me just fine. I prefer not to be seen by the people around me. I prefer to blend in the crowd.
I looked beyond the reflection I see in the mirror and I did not like what I saw. On the outside I am nothing and on the inside, I am something. Something dreadful.
The mirror could not show beauty, it could show me what I really am. I am a creature devoid of creativity. I lack a sense of fun. I am stubborn and aloof. I am as uninteresting as the leaves falling from the trees. People will not look twice when they see me.
I tried to change. I tried to be different. I tried to be light and creative. But the old me refuses to go under. I tried so hard but it only made me unhappy. I lost myself as I try to find my place in this world. In my attempt to fit in, I lost the real me. I was never the same again.
I was bad and I tried to be good. I got what I wanted when I wished to be different. I was different but I was never happy. I was bad at being bad and I was worst at being good. I only wanted to correct the mistakes but never felt right.
I lost myself and so I tried to find it. I searched and searched and I almost failed. If only I could merge the old and the new me. If only it's not so hard to be good.
if only...
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
In search of "Gargantiel"
For years now I had been looking for the meaning of my family name. I never found it instead, I found our family website and discovered that somewhere in the land of Spain is a place named "gargantiel".
I also found out that there are a lot of "us" scattered all over the globe and some of them are as curious as I am.
The meaning of the world really bothers me because I know that Spanish surnames have meanings and some of them could be really nasty.
I also found out that there are a lot of "us" scattered all over the globe and some of them are as curious as I am.
The meaning of the world really bothers me because I know that Spanish surnames have meanings and some of them could be really nasty.
Ako si Arianne--balang araw, yayaman ako!
Gaya ng iba, may mga pangarap din ako. Marami, malaki, matayog at medyo imposible. Minsan, pinagtatawanan ako ng iba dahil sa mga pangarap ko--malayo daw sa katotohanan, kabaliwan, walang patutunguhan.
Kung maniniwala lang ako sa "sabi nila..." malamang wala talaga akong patutunguhan kasi kung pakikinggan ko ang mga tao sa paligid ko, ni isa man sa kanila walang nag-encourage sa akin na abutin ang mga pangarap ko. Madalas tinatanong nila ako kung okay lang daw ba ako, kung hindi daw ba ako high at kung anu-ano pa sa tuwing sinusibukan kung i-share sa iba ang mga pangarap ko.
Oo, siyempre pangarap kong maging mayaman. Napaka-ipokrita ko naman kung sasabihin kong hindi di ba? Gusto kong magkaroon ng maraming pera para mabili ang lahat ng pangangailangan ng pamilya ko, at siyempre yung sa akin din. Hindi naman pwede na habang buhay na lang akong bubuhayin ng mga magulang ko eh...masyado namang nakakahiya yun.
Pangarap ko din dati ang maging sundalo. Ambisiyosa kasi talaga ako. Mahilig akong mag-ambisyon ng mga bagay na alam ko naman na hindi talaga pwede. Pero siyempre, hindi ibig sabihin na hindi ako pwedeng maging sundalo e, pababayaan ko na lang ang pangarap ko di ba?
Oo nga rin pala, pangarap ko rin na maging Director ng National Bureau of Investigation. Isa kasi akong amateur na wala naman talagang kaalam-alam kung ano talaga ang ginagawa sa NBI. Yung tanging alam ko lang ay kung ano ang nakikita ko sa TV, yung mga investigations and kung anu-ano pang Hardy boys inspired na mga ideya.
Gusto ko rin sanang maging forensic pathologist. Kung tama yung pagkaka-intindi ko, sila yung mga nagpeperform ng mga autopsies di ba? Ay, hindi yata...basta sila yung sa CSI...hehehe.Gusto ko yun, cute na trabaho di ba?
Ano kaya kung maging isa akong publicist sa isang internasyonal na kompanya? Sosyal di ba? Siyempre yung pangarap ko na maging isang rocket scientist ay talagang imposible kasi hindi naman ako matalino sa mga bagay na may kinalaman sa numero. Bobo ako dun eh, kaya nag Mass Comm ako.
Pangarap ko din magtrabaho sa mga organisasyon gaya ng World WildLife Fund o kahit sa DENR na lang, basta may kinalaman sa kalikasan. Gusto ko kasing protektahan ang kalikasan at ang mga nilalang na gaya nina Chichi [yung Giant Panda na logo ng WWF].
Siyempre gusto ko din namang maging isang manunulat. Kahit hindi na sa isang kilalang newspaper basta magawa ko ang trabaho ko bilang isang journalist.
Oo, dati pingarap ko din maging assasin. Mahal yata ang bayad sa mga yun di ba? Tsaka feeling ko para akong si Xena, yung warrior princess o si Lara Croft ng Tomb Raider; maganda, sexy, astig. Kaya lang, si Aian lang ako eh--wala akong boobs, cleaveage o kahit lips na lang na gaya ng kay Angelina jolie. Booblet lang ang meron ako, at madalas pa itong laitin ng mga taong hindi man lang iniisip na hindi malaki ang dibdib ko dahil hindi din naman ako kalakihang tao. Siyempre, hindi din naman ako marunong ng martial arts o kahit humawak man lang ng baril. Ball pen lang ang alam kong hawakan, pasensya na po.
Tapos, minsan sa buhay ko ginusto ko rin ang maging isang rebelde. Wala lang, akala ko kasi astig eh. Tapos isa pa, pag naging rebelde na ako at magiging isa sa mga tinaguriang Philippines Most Wanted e matutupad na ang pangarap ko na habulin ako ng mga crush ko na ngayon ay mga pulis at sundalo na. O di ba?
Gusto ko din maging social worker at magpunta sa mga remote areas sa Pilipinas na kailangan ng tulong ko. Napansin ko nga, masyado na akong maka-masa sa mga pangarap ko; masyadong public service ang tema ng buhay ko. Bakit kaya hindi ko pinagarap maging Presidente?
At dahil nga mahilig ako sa public service at mga humanitarian causes, pinaka-pangarap ko talaga ang magtrabaho sa United Nations. Kaya nga gusto kong magkaroon ng matataas na grado at mag-aral ulit ng ibang kurso pagka-graduate ko, yung kurso na a-akma sa papasukan kong trabaho. Kahit ito na lang sa lahat ng mga pangarap ko ang matupad, magiging masaya na ako.
Hindi pa dito nagtatapos ang litanya ng aking mga pangarap. Nandito na rin lang naman ito, lulubus-lubusin ko na. Sorry na ha?
Pangarap ko kasi pagyumaman na ako ibibili ko ng eroplano yung Philippine Air Force. Yung bagong-bago na eroplano. Yung hindi pang museum. At dahil hindi pa ako mayaman ngayon, drawing na lang muna. Ay! oo, di nga rin pala ako marunong mag-drawing. Sige, picture na muna mga Brod!
Ayan! Pasensiya na po...kinuha ko lang yan sa internet.
Siyempre, gusto ko rin magpagawa ng housing project para sa mga walang bahay, tapos paaralan, tapos ospital at marami pang iba...dapat talaga pinangarap ko na lang maging presidente.Di ba?
Siyempre, pag mayaman na ako, bago ko bilhin ang eroplano ng airforce at ipagawa ng mga bahay, ospital at paaralan na yan [pati na rin yung "marami pang iba"] bibilhin ko muna ang National Bookstore, Powerbooks at Goodwill. Magpapagawa ako ng aklatan na malaking-malaki [dapat exaggerated kasi libre naman ang pangarap].
Tapos, bibili ako siyempre ng maraming-maraming chocolates! Yung lahat ng klase ng tsokolate sa mundo para masaya!
Ito ang mga pangarap ko-- matayog, malaki at medyo imposible. Pero kaya ko to kasi, ako si Arianne at balang araw yayaman ako!
Kung maniniwala lang ako sa "sabi nila..." malamang wala talaga akong patutunguhan kasi kung pakikinggan ko ang mga tao sa paligid ko, ni isa man sa kanila walang nag-encourage sa akin na abutin ang mga pangarap ko. Madalas tinatanong nila ako kung okay lang daw ba ako, kung hindi daw ba ako high at kung anu-ano pa sa tuwing sinusibukan kung i-share sa iba ang mga pangarap ko.
Oo, siyempre pangarap kong maging mayaman. Napaka-ipokrita ko naman kung sasabihin kong hindi di ba? Gusto kong magkaroon ng maraming pera para mabili ang lahat ng pangangailangan ng pamilya ko, at siyempre yung sa akin din. Hindi naman pwede na habang buhay na lang akong bubuhayin ng mga magulang ko eh...masyado namang nakakahiya yun.
Pangarap ko din dati ang maging sundalo. Ambisiyosa kasi talaga ako. Mahilig akong mag-ambisyon ng mga bagay na alam ko naman na hindi talaga pwede. Pero siyempre, hindi ibig sabihin na hindi ako pwedeng maging sundalo e, pababayaan ko na lang ang pangarap ko di ba?
Oo nga rin pala, pangarap ko rin na maging Director ng National Bureau of Investigation. Isa kasi akong amateur na wala naman talagang kaalam-alam kung ano talaga ang ginagawa sa NBI. Yung tanging alam ko lang ay kung ano ang nakikita ko sa TV, yung mga investigations and kung anu-ano pang Hardy boys inspired na mga ideya.
Gusto ko rin sanang maging forensic pathologist. Kung tama yung pagkaka-intindi ko, sila yung mga nagpeperform ng mga autopsies di ba? Ay, hindi yata...basta sila yung sa CSI...hehehe.Gusto ko yun, cute na trabaho di ba?
Ano kaya kung maging isa akong publicist sa isang internasyonal na kompanya? Sosyal di ba? Siyempre yung pangarap ko na maging isang rocket scientist ay talagang imposible kasi hindi naman ako matalino sa mga bagay na may kinalaman sa numero. Bobo ako dun eh, kaya nag Mass Comm ako.
Pangarap ko din magtrabaho sa mga organisasyon gaya ng World WildLife Fund o kahit sa DENR na lang, basta may kinalaman sa kalikasan. Gusto ko kasing protektahan ang kalikasan at ang mga nilalang na gaya nina Chichi [yung Giant Panda na logo ng WWF].
Siyempre gusto ko din namang maging isang manunulat. Kahit hindi na sa isang kilalang newspaper basta magawa ko ang trabaho ko bilang isang journalist.
Oo, dati pingarap ko din maging assasin. Mahal yata ang bayad sa mga yun di ba? Tsaka feeling ko para akong si Xena, yung warrior princess o si Lara Croft ng Tomb Raider; maganda, sexy, astig. Kaya lang, si Aian lang ako eh--wala akong boobs, cleaveage o kahit lips na lang na gaya ng kay Angelina jolie. Booblet lang ang meron ako, at madalas pa itong laitin ng mga taong hindi man lang iniisip na hindi malaki ang dibdib ko dahil hindi din naman ako kalakihang tao. Siyempre, hindi din naman ako marunong ng martial arts o kahit humawak man lang ng baril. Ball pen lang ang alam kong hawakan, pasensya na po.
Tapos, minsan sa buhay ko ginusto ko rin ang maging isang rebelde. Wala lang, akala ko kasi astig eh. Tapos isa pa, pag naging rebelde na ako at magiging isa sa mga tinaguriang Philippines Most Wanted e matutupad na ang pangarap ko na habulin ako ng mga crush ko na ngayon ay mga pulis at sundalo na. O di ba?
Gusto ko din maging social worker at magpunta sa mga remote areas sa Pilipinas na kailangan ng tulong ko. Napansin ko nga, masyado na akong maka-masa sa mga pangarap ko; masyadong public service ang tema ng buhay ko. Bakit kaya hindi ko pinagarap maging Presidente?
At dahil nga mahilig ako sa public service at mga humanitarian causes, pinaka-pangarap ko talaga ang magtrabaho sa United Nations. Kaya nga gusto kong magkaroon ng matataas na grado at mag-aral ulit ng ibang kurso pagka-graduate ko, yung kurso na a-akma sa papasukan kong trabaho. Kahit ito na lang sa lahat ng mga pangarap ko ang matupad, magiging masaya na ako.
Hindi pa dito nagtatapos ang litanya ng aking mga pangarap. Nandito na rin lang naman ito, lulubus-lubusin ko na. Sorry na ha?
Pangarap ko kasi pagyumaman na ako ibibili ko ng eroplano yung Philippine Air Force. Yung bagong-bago na eroplano. Yung hindi pang museum. At dahil hindi pa ako mayaman ngayon, drawing na lang muna. Ay! oo, di nga rin pala ako marunong mag-drawing. Sige, picture na muna mga Brod!
Ayan! Pasensiya na po...kinuha ko lang yan sa internet.
Siyempre, gusto ko rin magpagawa ng housing project para sa mga walang bahay, tapos paaralan, tapos ospital at marami pang iba...dapat talaga pinangarap ko na lang maging presidente.Di ba?
Siyempre, pag mayaman na ako, bago ko bilhin ang eroplano ng airforce at ipagawa ng mga bahay, ospital at paaralan na yan [pati na rin yung "marami pang iba"] bibilhin ko muna ang National Bookstore, Powerbooks at Goodwill. Magpapagawa ako ng aklatan na malaking-malaki [dapat exaggerated kasi libre naman ang pangarap].
Tapos, bibili ako siyempre ng maraming-maraming chocolates! Yung lahat ng klase ng tsokolate sa mundo para masaya!
Ito ang mga pangarap ko-- matayog, malaki at medyo imposible. Pero kaya ko to kasi, ako si Arianne at balang araw yayaman ako!
Unlinked
A teardrop,
A sigh of regret,
A simple goodbye
The delicate chain has been broken,
Now I have to let you go.
I am burying your memory,
With the past that we shared
I dug so deep so it wouldn’t be unearthed
And break my heart again.
When love is lost,
It can always be recovered.
But when friendship is gone,
It is gone forever.
The special bond that we used to share
Has long been forgotten,
Gone were the days when we used to care for each other
Our past is now a history,
frozen in tiny photographs.
No more sounds of laughter,
No more traces of tears.
All that remained of our friendship is a tiny canvass,
A bitter reminder of what used to be.
Our smiling faces plastered in tiny snapshots,
Our laughters, echoes of yesterday
Yesterday seemed so long ago,
The shattering of the chains seemed distant and dreamlike,
Only the resounding pain makes it real.
My heart shattered in every single blow,
My teardrops fell as our special bond slowly let go,
I couldn’t stop you if you wanted so much to go,
I only wished that you had been gentle
When you finally closed that door
Now, I could only bade you goodbye
As my broken spirit slowly heals.
A sigh of regret,
A simple goodbye
The delicate chain has been broken,
Now I have to let you go.
I am burying your memory,
With the past that we shared
I dug so deep so it wouldn’t be unearthed
And break my heart again.
When love is lost,
It can always be recovered.
But when friendship is gone,
It is gone forever.
The special bond that we used to share
Has long been forgotten,
Gone were the days when we used to care for each other
Our past is now a history,
frozen in tiny photographs.
No more sounds of laughter,
No more traces of tears.
All that remained of our friendship is a tiny canvass,
A bitter reminder of what used to be.
Our smiling faces plastered in tiny snapshots,
Our laughters, echoes of yesterday
Yesterday seemed so long ago,
The shattering of the chains seemed distant and dreamlike,
Only the resounding pain makes it real.
My heart shattered in every single blow,
My teardrops fell as our special bond slowly let go,
I couldn’t stop you if you wanted so much to go,
I only wished that you had been gentle
When you finally closed that door
Now, I could only bade you goodbye
As my broken spirit slowly heals.
Ang Paka sa Sapa
Isa ka adlaw,
May isa ka paka nga naligo sa suba,
Nagsalom-salom nga daw isa ka isda,
Kay kuno may gina-pangita.
Ang amo nga paka
Ambisyosa kag ilusyonada.
Una, siling niya isa siya ka sirena
May matam-is nga tingog
Kag lawas nga makawiwili.
Nagkadto siya sa sapa
Nagsalom kag nagsalom
Halin sa aga asta nag gabi-e
Tungod sa iya nga pagpati.
Sang siya nakapoy na,
Nagbutwa kag nag takas siya.
Kag nagsiling,
“indi gid man ko sirena…”
Nagpungko siya sa dako nga bato
Kag naglantaw sa naga agas nga tubig,
Sang gulpi lang may nadumduman siya
“Insakto! Indi ako sirena,
Kay ako isa ka prinsesa!”
Gilantaw niya ang iya hulagway sa tubig,
Nagyuhom-yuhom siya,
Gidayaw ang iya kaugalingon
Sa pagpati nga siya isa ka princesa,
Kag sa tanan nga paka
Siya ang pinaka-gwapa.
Sa mga inadlaw nga nag-agi
Ang gamay nga paka
Padayon sa pagpati
Nga siya princesa
Nga gisumpa nga mangin paka sa gamay nga sapa
Sa iya nga paglibot-libot
Sa gamay nga sapa
Wala siya nakontento sa iya nga mga nakita
“Kalaw-ay dire,
Indi bagay para sa isa ka princesa
Nga gibugayan sang ka-gwapa
Sang langit kag duta”
Siya nagpanglugayawan
Kag nakakita sang mga lugar nga wala pa niya makadtuan,
Mga butang nga wala pa makit-an,
Kag mga buluhaton nga wala pa ma-testingan.
Sa kalayo sang iya naabtan,
Siya wala nanamian,
Ga-isahanon siya nga gapanglakaton
Sa lugar nga wala siya sang abyan o nahibal-an
Iya nadumduman ang iya gamay nga sapa,
Ang matinlo nga tubig
Nga iya ginapaliguan kag ginahampangan,
Malapad nga mga dahon
nga iya gina-pasilungan
sa kada mag-ulan.
Sa iya nga pagpadayon
Siya nakakita
Sang gamay nga sapa
Nagpundo siya kag naglantaw
Sa iya hulagway sa tubig nga matin-aw
Ang iya nga luha nagtulo
Kag siya nagsiling
“Sa akon nga pagpanglakaton
Akon na nahibal-an
indi ako sirena,
O isa ka maanyag nga princesa.
Ako isa lamang ka gamay nga paka
Nga indi makuntento
Sa akon gamay nga sapa.
Sa akon pagka ambisyosa,
Akon naaguman,
Mga bagay nga wala nahunahuna-an,
Nakadtu-an, mga lugar nga ginadamgo ko lang
Madamo ako sang nakita
Apang wala ang akon matuod nga ginapangita
Ako wala naghunahuna
Sa kanami sang akon gamay nga sapa
Nga tungod sa akon mga handom
Akon gitalikdan kag karon pagabalikon”
Kag sato dayon nga adlaw,
Ang gamay nga paka
Nagbalik sa iya gamay nga sapa
Kung sa diin siya malipayon
Bisan siya wala sang bilidhon.
*pampagulo lang...August 30, 2008.
May isa ka paka nga naligo sa suba,
Nagsalom-salom nga daw isa ka isda,
Kay kuno may gina-pangita.
Ang amo nga paka
Ambisyosa kag ilusyonada.
Una, siling niya isa siya ka sirena
May matam-is nga tingog
Kag lawas nga makawiwili.
Nagkadto siya sa sapa
Nagsalom kag nagsalom
Halin sa aga asta nag gabi-e
Tungod sa iya nga pagpati.
Sang siya nakapoy na,
Nagbutwa kag nag takas siya.
Kag nagsiling,
“indi gid man ko sirena…”
Nagpungko siya sa dako nga bato
Kag naglantaw sa naga agas nga tubig,
Sang gulpi lang may nadumduman siya
“Insakto! Indi ako sirena,
Kay ako isa ka prinsesa!”
Gilantaw niya ang iya hulagway sa tubig,
Nagyuhom-yuhom siya,
Gidayaw ang iya kaugalingon
Sa pagpati nga siya isa ka princesa,
Kag sa tanan nga paka
Siya ang pinaka-gwapa.
Sa mga inadlaw nga nag-agi
Ang gamay nga paka
Padayon sa pagpati
Nga siya princesa
Nga gisumpa nga mangin paka sa gamay nga sapa
Sa iya nga paglibot-libot
Sa gamay nga sapa
Wala siya nakontento sa iya nga mga nakita
“Kalaw-ay dire,
Indi bagay para sa isa ka princesa
Nga gibugayan sang ka-gwapa
Sang langit kag duta”
Siya nagpanglugayawan
Kag nakakita sang mga lugar nga wala pa niya makadtuan,
Mga butang nga wala pa makit-an,
Kag mga buluhaton nga wala pa ma-testingan.
Sa kalayo sang iya naabtan,
Siya wala nanamian,
Ga-isahanon siya nga gapanglakaton
Sa lugar nga wala siya sang abyan o nahibal-an
Iya nadumduman ang iya gamay nga sapa,
Ang matinlo nga tubig
Nga iya ginapaliguan kag ginahampangan,
Malapad nga mga dahon
nga iya gina-pasilungan
sa kada mag-ulan.
Sa iya nga pagpadayon
Siya nakakita
Sang gamay nga sapa
Nagpundo siya kag naglantaw
Sa iya hulagway sa tubig nga matin-aw
Ang iya nga luha nagtulo
Kag siya nagsiling
“Sa akon nga pagpanglakaton
Akon na nahibal-an
indi ako sirena,
O isa ka maanyag nga princesa.
Ako isa lamang ka gamay nga paka
Nga indi makuntento
Sa akon gamay nga sapa.
Sa akon pagka ambisyosa,
Akon naaguman,
Mga bagay nga wala nahunahuna-an,
Nakadtu-an, mga lugar nga ginadamgo ko lang
Madamo ako sang nakita
Apang wala ang akon matuod nga ginapangita
Ako wala naghunahuna
Sa kanami sang akon gamay nga sapa
Nga tungod sa akon mga handom
Akon gitalikdan kag karon pagabalikon”
Kag sato dayon nga adlaw,
Ang gamay nga paka
Nagbalik sa iya gamay nga sapa
Kung sa diin siya malipayon
Bisan siya wala sang bilidhon.
*pampagulo lang...August 30, 2008.
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