tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56928281719144872442023-11-16T18:33:39.274+08:00Trish Blogs a BitWhen my brain yaps, I write. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-46972542904986289062014-02-18T11:46:00.000+08:002014-02-18T11:46:15.313+08:00Sometimes I Wish I Were a Man <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="http://www.roimedia.co.za/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Men-V-Women-battle-of-the-sexes-18750658-392-332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.roimedia.co.za/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Men-V-Women-battle-of-the-sexes-18750658-392-332.jpg" /></a></div>
There are times, numerous for that matter, that I despise being female. From the ever so cliché reason pertaining to the monthly visit to the complex argument of being the subordinate sex, at moments I find myself wishing that I’m the bloke who plays video games for hours without even bothering to take a bath. Or the douche who wears too much hair gel who thinks he’s all that – forgetting about the fact that he’s got no money in his wallet. Scratch the last bit. Not even in my wildest dreams. </div>
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Not being sexist here but you have to admit – stereotypes happen for a reason. I’m not implicating that they are generally true but get real. The adage “boys will always be boys” are words we know too well. And yes, I envy the male sector for having that excuse. Sometimes I don’t get the fact that men can do what they want, act like baboons for all they care and still have that sense of acceptance from the universe. While on the other hand, women have to stay prim & proper all their lives, not breaking rules just so a fine young man sees them fit for marriage. Now that men have ran off and experienced the world, I think it’s kind of unfair that women don’t get to do it as well, yes? Ugh. I wish I was a man. No. Not in a lesbo kind of way. But a straight man. And to justify what was just stated here are several of my opinions. </div>
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• Why do I have to have all these feels? “Must. Not. Feel. Anything.” Alter ego said. “Eff no, madafaca.” Hormones replied. Why do female genetics have to have all of these emotions? The usual number of feelings that my emotional capacity can handle is four; namely happiness, sadness, anger & hunger (only up to a certain extent). But noooo… there’s catty-ness, bitchy-ness, feeling alone-ness, must eat chocolate or I kill somebody-ness, blah-ness… the list never ends. Oh. And wait ‘til my hormones kick in.</div>
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• Heels are a constant reminder that it's not easy living the feminine life. Don’t get me wrong, I adore adore adooore heels. A shoe boutique to me is like candy land to a child. And just like candy, it hurts when you have too much of it. 1 hour tops on killer stilettos and I’ll be barefooted wherever, whenever. It sucks to see men with their comfortable loafers and leather shoes at formal events or parties – their feet cushioned properly, comfy and all. Tsk. But meh. Heels are pretty, right girl?</div>
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• Backbiting is a big ass B! I like how men settle the situation. They duel. Well, today it’s more of a sweaty street brawl but women do it more viciously. By using their mouths. Instead of talking behind people’s backs, let’s all make the world a better place by punching someone in the face out in the open. She stole your boyfriend, break her neck. She told your mother you’re not a virgin anymore, dislocate her knee caps. There’s no assurance that you’re not going to get injured in the process but it’s settled.</div>
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• The weight game is like Jumanji x 10! It’s exhausting, depressing, painful, nauseating, self-depreciating, horrible all at once! History and media have programmed this mindset on women that it’s pretty difficult to escape from it. One day I feel like a million bucks the next I’m cupping my belly in front of the mirror feeling bad about myself for eating that extra cup of rice. I don’t think men do not have this kind of societal pressure upon them but women have it worse I can attest. Again, hormones. </div>
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• Why must hair grow on places I don’t want them to? Shaving is an added time spent in the bathroom. I don’t want to seem scrappy and unhygienic but if given the chance, I’d like to have a five minute bath and get it over with. In addition to that, we cannot survive with just soap and shampoo. And now that there’s a body wash and shampoo in one for men, that makes it even worse!</div>
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• Whining? More like wine-ing! Writing this entire article proves the point of this bullet. Girls do have the tendency to vent out. A lot. I like how a few glasses of alcohol tames men. But now that I mentioned wine, I’m good. It’s fun being the mademoiselle. I get to complain about stuff and people will think I’m just being a girl. But be warned, I punch like a guy. ;) Cheers, love. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-28563189252283303572013-12-26T11:42:00.000+08:002014-02-18T11:48:25.107+08:00Of Unfinished Chapters & New Beginnings <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
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<br />
Another year is about to end and
December blues is inevitable. It's that time of the year again where your brain's amygdala go trippin' and mess up with you and your emotions.<br />
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Some time last year I wrote a
blog about <a href="http://daldalitangfroglet.blogspot.com/2013/01/2012-was-roller-coaster-year-forme-but.html">lessons learned and realizations</a> 2012 has taught me. By far it’s one
of my favorite pieces. It felt like one of my most honest write ups and there
are times where I find myself going back to it, rereading the words that came
out from me and somehow, I’d feel OK. I’d feel a little assured that I’m not
completely lost.</div>
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2013 to me felt like I’ve
wandered in the bigger picture. Not literally but in a sense that I was just
here – living what life has thrown at me. I wasn’t a fish that fought the
current, instead I went with the flow of the sea. I’m not sure that’s a good
thing or a bad thing or if I’m making any sense at all. That’s just more of a
general description of what has been. The only thing that I know is that I'm OK so far. But being the overambitious modern woman that I am, there’s a
screaming voice at the back of my mind telling me when to start another
adventure. So it’s safe to say that this year was steady. I worked, I spent, I saved a little.</div>
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<h3>
Without further ado, here’s my 2013
in retrospect. </h3>
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-It is what it is. Do not search
for the deeper meaning. Don’t go all philosophical on something that doesn’t
even need any explanations. </div>
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-Being kind all the time is
exhausting especially if you’re a realistic (leaning towards cynic), no-BS-kind
of person. Biting your tongue to avoid harsh comments from coming out of your
mouth is excruciating. Letting the other person win the conversation is a loss
you never want to endure. But most of the time it’s for the better. The art of
“brushing it off” is so much better. Then you realize you’re getting old (OK,
fine. Matured).</div>
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-Thinking you’re Superman is not
such a great idea. You get tired. You get sick. You get bad days. Don’t go out
there thinking you can save the world e.g. work, drink, party, travel, do
errands, work, work, work and still feel brand new. </div>
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-A miniscule part of me sees the
“traditional” way of life for a woman is possible, where I’d be a great homemaker,
devote my whole life to the kids, cook a Martha Stewart qualified meal and
take care of all my husband’s needs. But it’s like the Higgs Boson to me, having
a mean lifetime of <span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; line-height: 115%;">1.56×10</span><sup><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">−22</span></sup><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; line-height: 115%;"> s. </span>Now the largest part of me is
that I am a cyborg and I wanna take over the world, one continent at a time. :P
</div>
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-Talk to people who are 10 – 20
years older than you. They have something to share that’s really worthy to
listen to. Talk to people 10 – 15 years younger than you. They remind you of
stuff you have long forgotten. </div>
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-Nobody can be Beyonce. I repeat.
Nobody can be Beyonce. All hail the queen. </div>
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-One of the best feelings in the
world: nobody else at the beach, sitting on the sand under the clear night sky,
hearing the rush of the waves, buzzed and laughing until your lungs couldn’t
handle it anymore with your friends. </div>
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-Thank God for pets. Almost
always, they’re the only friends you need. </div>
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-Feel the beat. Dance with it. No
inhibitions. <br />
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-If you really want something, sometimes all you gotta do is have the courage to ask for it.</div>
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-Be grateful for the sense of
feeling. Laugh your brains off. Cry your heart out. Curse the world. Praise the heavens. Be in utter awe. Love. You’re alive.</div>
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-The only time it’s good news
that you’re broke is that you’ve spent all your money on traveling. You’ve
basically gained more in life at the end of the day. </div>
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-Speaking of gaining in life –
read. Learn from it. Use it as a means of escape. Immerse yourself into a whole
new world wherein it’s just you and the words of its creator. Because when you
find something special, it’s one of the things that never really go away. </div>
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-Being in the transition of going
independent – financially & emotionally – from your parents’ support, you
begin to appreciate them more. </div>
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-Another best feeling: You,
completely alone at the beach on a really small island, sleeping on a nice
beach bed as if you own the place. </div>
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-Print some of your best photos.
Frame them or paste them on your wall. </div>
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-Sometimes you ask yourself "why
do I even bother?". You shouldn’t even have to ask yourself that in the first
place.</div>
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-Forgive those who’ve wronged
you. Most importantly, forgive yourself. </div>
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-In the words of Abraham Lincoln
“I walk slowly, but I never walk backwards”. Breathe in. Breathe out. Enjoy the
moment. </div>
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-Anais Nin is my gurl! Her
honesty, flaws, feistiness & grace are my standards on being a woman. It’s
all about the sass. </div>
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-Treat yo’self. Buy that dress.
Buy those shoes. Buy that damned overpriced coffee. You worked for it. You
deserve it. </div>
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-As long as you pay for your
drinks, nobody can tell you you’ve been drinking too much. NOBODY. :P </div>
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-Know where people are coming
from before judging their actions. But don’t go to the point on deciphering
their every single cell. We don’t even know ourselves completely, how else will
we be able to know the others that easy? <br />
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-As I get older, I sometimes think about the pains I have to go through. Not in an anxious kind of way but more on out of curiosity. Sometimes it makes you think what life is going to hit you in the face and wonder how you're going to react to it. Most of all, how you're going to surpass it.</div>
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-There’s just a lot to learn,
see, experience and do! Sometimes it makes you wish that you can control time,
have an unlimited amount of money and never grow old or be sick. I know it’s
never going to happen but maybe that’s just life teaching us how to hustle. So…</div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">-HUSTLE. </span></b></div>
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If you were able to reach up to
this point, thank you. You’ve given my stone cold heart a bit of warmth. ;) May
your New Year be bright & better. Cheers! </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-31745156534438570842013-09-27T22:19:00.000+08:002013-09-30T16:16:57.066+08:00One Time an Old Dude was Hitting on Me and I Liked It<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevXiT3dcuKwzbnz-jWB3evTvBFzrsPupKLXUIh5bzFBhpCDScXeHk4cm9jUplpwfmDXbWn2B4CsaVxAvnKzAR9RMfVTS6IdjrAdMOSKcV9iYgJGcGSGTFnjN_-8Ze-IUMKJSUAphzpQ0/s1600/trish+magno.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="584" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevXiT3dcuKwzbnz-jWB3evTvBFzrsPupKLXUIh5bzFBhpCDScXeHk4cm9jUplpwfmDXbWn2B4CsaVxAvnKzAR9RMfVTS6IdjrAdMOSKcV9iYgJGcGSGTFnjN_-8Ze-IUMKJSUAphzpQ0/s640/trish+magno.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Yeah but hear me out first.</div>
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I always love a good
conversation. I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing as long as we have
the same vibe the moment we’re talking then we’re good. We could go on for
hours and in the end feel like we’ve shared something valuable. Something worth
remembering. Like the time <i>lolo </i>tried
to have a chat with me.</div>
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It was a normal day as I was
waiting for my train to arrive for school. I was late, I was finishing up my
requirements for graduation and I hadn’t slept properly in the past few days.
Given that my university doesn’t have any dress code, I was wearing a very
unflattering <i>pambahay-ish </i>shorts,
shirt and flip flops. I wore my forever-dependable sunglasses as well to
camouflage all of my insecurities for not a single type of makeup was on my
face. To make it short and simple, I looked like I just got out of bed. The
combination of excessive caffeine and terrible loss of sleep gave me strength
to not care at all though. </div>
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So when I saw the train at a
distance, I automatically got to the platform where the special coach for
females and senior citizens would stop. Used to everything being done routinely,
I didn’t notice that an old man was standing next beside me. Since he was a
senior, I gave way so that he could enter the train first. </div>
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He was a familiar face. Riding
the train everyday gives me a certain sense of community. Same faces going to
places they had to go to. Doing their own businesses as I did mine. And in the
three years of that type of familiarity, I realized I never had a decent conversation
with someone out of my connections. I always notice him for being so jolly. I
am not checking him out, the title is misleading. I repeat, the title is
misleading. </div>
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Anyway, as I was saying, he has
this light demeanor where he’s always smiling, doing small talk with the girl
in charge at the ticket booth, saluting at the security guard and greeting
random people who randomly has eye contact with him. Oddly enough, it’s easily
noticeable whenever he’s not there. So on that day he approached me and said
good morning. I said good morning back. </div>
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Lolo: <i>San ka papunta, iha? <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Me: <i>Sa school po, lo. Kayo po? (wasn’t expecting he’d start a conversation
with me.)</i></div>
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Lolo: <i>Sa school din.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Me: <i>Nag aaral pa po kayo? </i>(<i>a
somewhat stupid assumption, I know. Give me a break I haven’t slept in a while)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Lolo: <i>Ay hindi. Nagtuturo ako part-time.</i> (<i>he chuckled and gestured playing a flute to make me understand. He had
some kind of a wind instrument hanging on his neck as well.)<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Me: <i>Ah. Kaya po pala ang galing niyo magpatugtog ng flute.</i> (<i>he always plays while waiting for the
train). <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Lolo: <i>What’s your name, iha?</i></div>
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Me: <i>Trish po. Kayo po?</i> </div>
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Lolo: (<i>Says his name but I forgot </i><i><span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">L</span> I’m so bad at
remembering names). Madalas kitang mapansin pag nandito ka sa stasyon</i>.<i> Ang gaan kasi ng aura mo.</i> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Me: <i>Talaga po? </i>(<i>I was so
flattered given that I felt so ugly and stressed out that day.) Si lolo talaga,
bolero. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Lolo: <i>hahaha. Pasensya na. Mahilig lang talaga ako magbasa ng tao. Hula ko
zodiac sign mo, Sagittarius. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Me: :O <i>Opo. Hahaha paano niyo po nahulaan?<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Lolo: <i>Talaga? Akala ko magkakamali ako. Mukha ka kasing free-spirit. At
parang ang strong ng personality mo. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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*I smiled for a second not
knowing what to say. Man, of all the guys who approached me, this dude was definitely
getting my attention. Haha!*</div>
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Lolo: <i>Sagittarius din kasi ako. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Me: <i>Kaya ho pala magka-vibes tayo, lo. </i> <i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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The entire train ride, we were
talking to each other. He was in his mid-70s. He told me short stories about
his youth in Manila. He gave comparisons on how it was before to how it was at
present. He told me he sings before and how he loves music. I asked him was
that why he was so good at playing his wind instruments. To my surprise, he
told me it was a new hobby of his – just months old. He just got a hang of it
then decided to play at the mall and teach kids part time. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He confessed that at first he was
also doubtful because of his age. He was already old, he emphasized. But he
loved what he was doing and though it did sound too cliché and rainbows and
butterfly-ey, it was the plain and simple truth. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And in that chaotic, crowded
moment (both the train and what’s happening inside my head), I was inspired.
His jolliness was contagious. He was the one with the “light aura”. For a
stranger thrice my age to approach me and impact my day in some way, that is
why I liked it so much. And I cannot forget it. Too bad I didn’t have a camera
at the time and I regret it so much for forgetting his name but the whole
conversation stays with me. Now I just had to write it so when I’m 70 years old,
I’d be able to get back to this and remember again. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-42756039962722897102013-09-26T11:31:00.001+08:002013-09-26T15:14:47.014+08:00Fixing Crooked Perspectives, Hoping It'd Work<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJI_x9c9e2yb9h3G2TASuNgp_r1BSaxVr4fAip7ays2mFjD9UJkBtXnll2DFXBIlEIqIEx78PewTIPQD-rxQxvqccdmDLlrFjjyJ2AhS1PRZ5FzW72elHJsIhbvzZH9Kd48XpJ6rgrR00/s1600/type.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJI_x9c9e2yb9h3G2TASuNgp_r1BSaxVr4fAip7ays2mFjD9UJkBtXnll2DFXBIlEIqIEx78PewTIPQD-rxQxvqccdmDLlrFjjyJ2AhS1PRZ5FzW72elHJsIhbvzZH9Kd48XpJ6rgrR00/s640/type.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Feeling so uninspired lately that I may have gravely doubted myself at one of the things I love best. Hoping it's just a phase. Silently pleading that the universe would somehow shift in my favor. But yeah, while I'm at it I still gotta hustle...<br />
<br />
And then I found something out of my innumerable spent hours on the internet. Somehow it calmed me down knowing that I don't have to pressure myself too much. I may have used it as an excuse for "slacking off" but whatever. I gotta believe in something at one point - and this one convinced me, punched me hard right through my guts.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b>so you want to be a writer?</b></h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by Charles Bukowski<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if it doesn't come bursting out of you</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in spite of everything,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
unless it comes unasked out of your</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
heart and your mind and your mouth</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and your gut,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you have to sit for hours</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
staring at your computer screen</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or hunched over your</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
typewriter</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
searching for words,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you're doing it for money or</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
fame,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you're doing it because you want</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strike>women</strike><i>(men) </i>in your bed,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you have to sit there and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
rewrite it again and again,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you're trying to write like somebody</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
else,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
forget about it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you have to wait for it to roar out of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
then wait patiently.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if it never does roar out of you,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
do something else.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if you first have to read it to your wife</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or your parents or to anybody at all,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
you're not ready.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't be like so many writers,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't be like so many thousands of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
people who call themselves writers,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't be dull and boring and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
love.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the libraries of the world have</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
yawned themselves to</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sleep</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
over your kind.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't add to that.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
unless it comes out of</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
your soul like a rocket,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
unless being still would</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
drive you to madness or</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
suicide or murder,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
unless the sun inside you is</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
burning your gut,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
don't do it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when it is truly time,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and if you have been chosen,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it will do it by</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
itself and it will keep on doing it</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
until you die or it dies in you.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
there is no other way.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and there never was.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
...Cooking something up hoping I'd get it out of the oven soon. Peace. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-52429362297439219642013-09-25T12:45:00.000+08:002013-09-25T12:45:18.814+08:00Drama & Shit vol. 1.1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDf2CsnafKIuK2yAKJv_RmsZm1s5VGR1P72ah75lnKl600jYf-855u9Vx7vUVqdq55NW2Sb5UArzCA3ZWxT4T7nXcMBP-MVrEjfNoNLRFuIl8K48qDavNGmQ5BU6oIdu0ulkTieDG0KiU/s1600/1175050_10201328040317332_2115463981_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDf2CsnafKIuK2yAKJv_RmsZm1s5VGR1P72ah75lnKl600jYf-855u9Vx7vUVqdq55NW2Sb5UArzCA3ZWxT4T7nXcMBP-MVrEjfNoNLRFuIl8K48qDavNGmQ5BU6oIdu0ulkTieDG0KiU/s640/1175050_10201328040317332_2115463981_n.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-26050641716850358042013-08-26T00:14:00.000+08:002013-09-26T15:43:52.549+08:00Never Have I Wanted So Much in My Life <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_UciQivnEiCNLtLcRbS7VBiaNk-o_8v36I1t7rQ3ogOYQzP_qVVudu631ukij2nvrwqVzgmKJFF-8q9gGpAgLX6YNBHulKExWUPzxwsgPhgAVSIIzYeYoe7FV-1-gVx-JpoexFC2GEk/s1600/mmm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY_UciQivnEiCNLtLcRbS7VBiaNk-o_8v36I1t7rQ3ogOYQzP_qVVudu631ukij2nvrwqVzgmKJFF-8q9gGpAgLX6YNBHulKExWUPzxwsgPhgAVSIIzYeYoe7FV-1-gVx-JpoexFC2GEk/s640/mmm.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
There was this house on top of a
hill. It was the only thing there. Not another establishment within the next
few hectares. It was, as one might consider it, remote. Slightly unkempt and
aged but it was weathered gracefully like an old woman having these beautiful
wrinkles on the side of her eyes. That whenever she smiles, it was a
reminder of the many others she did back when she was young. A little older
though, one can feel its solitude, like it was left behind as the others moved
on to the modern world.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Not an expert on architecture or design
of some sort but it looked unconventional. I could compare it to a Spanish
villa with terracotta floors and white cemented walls. Three stories overlooking a quaint little
town and a majestic sunset. And at the top was a little observatory. The one
thing that captured me the most.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Never have I wanted so much in my
life. It was there, in that 4 square meters of a room, where walls were wrapped
in glass windows encompassed by built in desks on three sides and a small bunk
on the fourth, I found my hideaway. The space spoke volumes to me and I could
totally see myself inside it, writing my heart away amidst the pile of clutter
in front of me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Books will be sitting everywhere.
I’d have speakers booming with tunes that get my brain to work. I’d have piles
and piles of papers, some clean, some with coffee stains, some crumpled and
some I’d have no idea why they’re there. And then I’d have a telescope or if I please,
I’d just lie in my bunk bed and stare at the stars through my glass ceiling. I could
stay there for days and forget about the world. And if the heavens grant me a
person that’ll hold a special place in my heart, I’d welcome him in there and we’d
have our own little world together too. He’d openly share his thoughts and
playlist and I’d do the same thing back to him as well. It’ll be countless of
hours spent in that sanctuary. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
On good days it’ll be too tidy,
not a spot left unclean. Books arranged alphabetically. Papers segregated in
bins. Sheets laid out perfectly, not a thing out of place. On great days it’ll
be a total mess and the only spot without obstruction is the place where my
laptop is.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I swore to myself to have one like it one way or another. That’s when I realize I was staring at the room
way too long. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-38191734045030860782013-08-02T14:59:00.000+08:002013-08-02T16:17:22.348+08:00"For Women Who are Difficult to Love" -Warsan Shire<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I found a young poet, Warsan Shire, online and I instantly love her compositions. This was by far, my favorite as it hits home. She had me at "you can't make homes out of human beings", one line that spoke volumes to me. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHtosndB6v02qCKxNdUBTxeZEJNY7lp92y1SBO37lLMWujzZXFU2p2nTzPotRIUoXAeaW9HnE5aZeqQrDlG0sZCuiERbsugrBS5L08vJl5UBkXUUzk_XPFtjmgz88_nVD-uOXppr8hW0/s1600/543095_4583483070114_2129145864_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="for women who are difficult to love - warsan shire" border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAHtosndB6v02qCKxNdUBTxeZEJNY7lp92y1SBO37lLMWujzZXFU2p2nTzPotRIUoXAeaW9HnE5aZeqQrDlG0sZCuiERbsugrBS5L08vJl5UBkXUUzk_XPFtjmgz88_nVD-uOXppr8hW0/s640/543095_4583483070114_2129145864_n.jpg" title="for women who are difficult to love - warsan shire" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
And since I cannot get enough, I watched the video as well. The added type of media made it more alive even though the poem was already full of life itself (not sure if that made sense).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/gUvOViIXPAk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-49615339931610746922013-06-06T14:10:00.002+08:002013-08-02T16:25:26.987+08:00I Wrote Something About Not Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.dawnluedecke.com/writers%20block.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.dawnluedecke.com/writers%20block.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I haven’t written anything in
five months. Where have I been? Not that I left in search of my soul or
anything (it’s forever lost and scattered, anyway). In fact I was just here. I
never really left. What have I been doing? Five months is a lot of time! Not
that I’m obliged to write ever too often though; but still. It bugs me. Have I
been too busy? Meh. I got time to watch series and stuff so that doesn’t seem
acceptable. Have I loss inspiration? Have I diminish my will to write?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A part of myself tells me that I have
dulled my edge yet another willingly consoles me that there isn’t just anything
to write about. However, deep inside, my subconscious nags at me about tons of
stuff that could be enough reason for my thoughts be published. See, I am at
war with my “selves” (yes, I am many). Maybe I’m just lazy - a statement I
solemnly refuse to believe. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Lazy. A word I despise but cannot
avoid. It’s like my Christian Grey minus all the BDSM shizz and Charlie Tango.
Lazy is responsible for a lot of stuff I wish I could’ve done. And yes, Lazy
brought a friend – Regret. But Regret only shows up once Lazy f*cked me up. And
you know the funny thing is that this seemed to be a pattern in my
“patternless” world. It doesn’t come too often just to be clear. I can be hard working
if I want to be and if my mind is focused and determined enough to achieve something
(like this write-up for instance). But sometimes, when I think about certain
things and try to expand them into certain extents, I feel cripple, immobile,
lost and useless. And this makes me feel entirely restless.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Not sure if that last sentence came
out right but picture this instead. When I was really young, I wanted the
world. I had high hopes. I studied very hard because I knew that by studying
very hard I’d ace all my tests. And when I ace all my tests, I’d be accepted in
a very prestigious university. And by studying in a prestigious university, I’d
be able to get a good job. And by getting a good job, I’d be paid with a large
amount of salary. And by having a large amount of salary, I’d be able to buy
the stuff that I want. And by having the stuff that I want, I’d be able to do the
things that I want to do. And by doing the things I want to do, I’d find
someone who wants to do the things I want to do and vice versa. And then I’d
marry him. And then we’ll travel the world one country at a time. And we’d have
beautiful children. And when we die, we’d die in paradise – like literally, our
rest house on the beach. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
That sounded very ideal and yes,
very convincing in my mind. Up until life showed me its true colors. Ha. Life
is funny. Along the way, I met poverty, a corrupt government, a backwards
society, untrustworthy people, the difficulty of achieving desires without
money, the capacity a person has just to have money – REALITY. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
It’s hard to admit but I fell
flat on my face as if I have been living a lie. LOL not really. That sounded
quite exaggerated I think I just put that one bit in just to spice this whiny blog
up. But to be honest though, the distance from being entirely sheltered blurred
how I formerly viewed the world. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
From then on there were times
where I lie in bed thinking about what would happen a year from now, three
years from now, five years from now, ten years from now. Unconsciously I’d
build thoughts in my head similar to what I had when I was a kid only it went the opposite. I tried to study very hard because if I didn’t study very
hard I won’t be able to have impressive school records. If I didn’t have
impressive school records, nobody would dare look at my resume. If nobody would
dare look at my resume, I wouldn’t land a job. If I don’t bag a job, I would
not be paid. If I’m not going to get paid, I cannot buy the stuff that I want. If I can’t
get the stuff that I want, I’d be depressed. If I’m depressed, nobody’s ever
going to love me. If nobody is going to love me, that beach house would be full
of dogs and me all alone. Wait, I wouldn’t even have that beach house if I can’t
afford it, right? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Then you’d think that it ends
there. Oh no. Not even the slightest. One thought is supported by another
thought and supported by another thought and supported by another thought and
so on and on. After endless pondering, my brain suddenly registers the bonus
question: WHY? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Maybe it’s because the government
being corrupt, spending its funds on the wrong priorities and pocketing a large
percentage so politicians get to eat with a silver spoon and citizens die of
hunger. Maybe it’s the inferiority of the Philippines, succumbing to
first-world countries, kissing their asses, forgetting their real worth and
value. Speaking of value, maybe it’s the modern population’s crooked values
that instead of finding better ways for the future, they get knocked up/knock
someone up and adding another mouth to feed – more funds the government must
allocate to. Or maybe it’s just me and my overactive mind or me and my
anxieties killing me. It can also be those puppy and Ellen de Generes YouTube videos that take so much of my precious time instead of finding cure for HIV. I don’t know. </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Then from “I don’t know”, I would
stop, confused. What was I stressing about in the first place? Are my worries even worth it? Should I be happy that I don’t know what’s going to happen next
or should I be anxious? Imagine if I can foretell the future accurately. That’d
be such a pain. Being the control freak that I am, I’m sure I’d live all my
life watching out for the mistakes I will do or the loved ones that I’ll lose
in the future. Then I wouldn’t really live at all. And I prefer to live. Note
at how my thoughts escalate and plummet at such a short period of time. Like that
bastard Lazy, my mind’s frantic sentiments are inevitable. So from there, my
thoughts evaporate just like that – and I’d feel good. Not better than before
but at least, good in the now. Then my beloved, cunning, smartass brain would tell me to watch Game of Thrones. That’s
probably one of the reasons why I haven’t been writing lately. So is 2 Broke
Girls, Shameless, Girls, Revenge, Modern Family and dozens of books in my
reading list which I totally want to write about but would rather watch or read
simultaneously instead. </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-67242481120543632752013-01-25T22:41:00.000+08:002013-06-06T10:44:55.934+08:00Confessions of a Former Fat Girl<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIRMTn-Mq31fzIK_HiIq9y1gKkiOm9Yr_VPFYldqF9pu6_dpug2j82U4aBMipKs6qeeRsM8tSxLpM_K8TWDerdsLntlhmsQc7ADF6vQoyFkxlxdwsNMJ0RuKZ_A_SvilxH-5tsbE3QDM/s1600/Me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyIRMTn-Mq31fzIK_HiIq9y1gKkiOm9Yr_VPFYldqF9pu6_dpug2j82U4aBMipKs6qeeRsM8tSxLpM_K8TWDerdsLntlhmsQc7ADF6vQoyFkxlxdwsNMJ0RuKZ_A_SvilxH-5tsbE3QDM/s400/Me.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal">
Growing up, I had a lot of issues
about weight. I was a fat kid since birth up until fourth grade. I wasn’t
medically obese but in the eyes of the people most especially the Filipinos,
fat is fat. It’s not chubby, it’s not plump, it’s plain and simple FAT. Because
of this, that’s how I viewed myself for the longest time. I grew up with a
society that saw my kind of body size as “ugly” rather than “unhealthy”. The
skinny ones were always the prettier ones. No matter how much of a stick figure
they looked, they were always the ones preferred. They could wear the clothes
they like and go anywhere without the fear of being called names such a pig,
fatty or fridge raider. Well I wasn’t called a fridge raider though but I was
called a lot of things.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Growing up, I could say that my
childhood went well though. I had a secured life and I think it’s one of the
strongest foundations of my present self-esteem. Everything was great except
for my body weight and how I see myself back then. Because every time I looked
in the mirror, all I see was ugly. Fat and ugly. Since people constantly say
it, it felt truer and truer by the minute. Another thing was that I cannot wear
the clothes that I like. I always chose the baggy clothes to hide my actual
size. I was 9 years old and I can’t wear a sleeveless shirt because my “kid
arms” were bulging or my tummy wasn’t flat under my shirt. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Looking back, I wish I hadn’t
been so hard on myself but the damage is done and maybe if I wasn’t that
determined in the past, I wouldn’t have loss all the weight.<br />
<a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>The Turning Point<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was then that I decided I
needed to do something about IT. My main motivation was for all the clothes I’d
like to wear. And for b****** to shut the f*** up and stop calling me names. Take
note that it wasn’t for health reason. So from there, I remember my 9 year old
self on her diet. I was literally cutting back large portions of what I
normally ate and it was over the top depressing! I was a kid and I was on a
diet when I should’ve been enjoying life without problems. Apart from the diet I
also started to do a little sports which alleviated most of my depression. Eventually
I started to lose some pounds.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a long and difficult
journey and by the time I was 11 and in fifth grade, I wasn’t fat anymore. I
wasn’t stick skinny but at least I wasn’t called names too much because someone
was already larger than me. At the moment, I thought I was already safe.
Mission accomplished. Project Diet, NADA. But noooooo. I had no idea about high
school and teenage angst back then. By the time I reached 13 my fat
consciousness level skyrocketed drastically. I was determined to be Stick
Skinny. Because I thought that by being stick skinny, I’d be pretty. And people
would see me as pretty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So like any stick skinny girl, I
didn’t eat. I wasn’t anorexic but sure as hell, I didn’t like the activity of
eating especially if it involved healthy food. Junk food was a large part of my
diet. And since my teenage body does not react quickly to fat content as much
as it does now, I wasn’t worried. I had a dysfunctional eating habit that
seemed to work out perfectly for me. And my gosh was it effective! I got
skinnier and skinnier and people started seeing me as pretty!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Problem solved.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Or that’s what I thought.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Really, really wrong.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My high school life was pretty
active. I was most active in sports and extra-curricular activities and having
skinny friends with me gave me a good motivation. On a side note, I’m also
proud to say that I didn’t turn out to be the skinny bitch. I never taunted
plus sized girls because I know what it feels like to be teased and called
names. However, I remember the ones who did it to me and silently rejoiced
whenever they see me in my thin, fit self. Fist pump inner self, oh yeaaah.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>How I Went to Overdrive</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then there was college. The part
where I went out of control. I already developed some kind of fear about me
getting back to my former fat self. Not a single nerve in my body wanted that
to happen. Not when everybody was giving me compliments and whatnots. Not when
I started seeing myself as pretty.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
College life was definitely a
refreshing phase of my life. Everything was new and I finally got a tinge of
freedom. I chose a university that was far from home thinking that it would
enable me to explore the city more but didn’t think of the fact on how much
pain in the arse the commute and budget would be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All my life, I was secured in the
confines of school and my home. But in college, I was kinda out there. Kinda
out there and kinda broke.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With an allowance that was just
enough to send me to school and back home, I was aching to have more money.
What I needed the extra money for? My vices of course. Drinking with friends
was a pastime. And since beer was expensive, we reserved it for special
occasions and opt for hard liquor- cuts right through the guts but doesn’t hurt
the wallet. Another thing was shopping. Whatever I saved within a month’s time,
I buy clothes – since my obsession with clothes was my biggest diet motivation
in the first place. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So as a useless parasite who
doesn’t have the power to earn money yet, I did what I did best – NOT EAT. My
food budget was about 60 pesos a day. Instead of the normal meal, my lunch
costs 15 pesos. Don’t ask what I’ve been eating back then. In between, I’d
smoke cigarettes to divert my feeling of hunger. So let’s say my lunch cost me
25 pesos back then, I was able to save a good amount by the end of the month.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This went on for a long time,
mostly half of my college life. I felt so badass thinking how cool I was
smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol as much as I possibly can. Plus, I just
got skinnier and skinnier so my fear of getting fat was already hiding in a
dark corner. I prolonged the act not knowing or giving a damn on how much I was
abusing my body.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My lack of sleep, stress of
commute and the hassles of schooling helped me reduced weight. I wasn’t into
sports anymore because I didn’t have the time (replaced by drinking and going
out with friends, that is). Plus, something happened in my life that every
teenage girl (or any kind of girl in retrospect) dreads. You already know what
it is. So there goes my normal eating habit. On second thought, it wasn’t
normal in the first place already. I ate one meal a day. The average was three.
That one meal wasn’t even the actual recommended meal humans must take.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>How I Felt</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was 19 years old, 5’7” and
weighed 110 lbs. Yep. You’d think I’d be looking like a model as it was how
supermodels were supposed to look like. My BMI result was underweight.
Everybody thought I looked good though. Except me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Every time I looked at the
mirror, I was dissatisfied and I was mad at myself because I wanted to be
skinny in the first place. That was supposed to be a good thing. But then I
can’t see my boobs (I still don’t have them even when I gained weight LOL). And
my butt was all flat. My face looked tired. Probably from all the smoking. My
eyes sank and my cheekbones, for the first time in my life, were visible. That
wasn’t what a vibrant 19 year old should look like. I refused to believe the
girl in the mirror was me. And looking back, I feel sorry for the girl and what
I’ve done to turn her into that way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was also the first time where
I didn’t know how to handle it. I was so used at being called fat or big that
all I knew was how to remain skinny. At the moment, gaining weight was ten
times harder. I couldn’t just change the way I eat when I’ve been so used to
it. And as a cherry on top, I got really sick from eating all the junk and from
neglecting my body. My body has finally turned its back on me and it was more
painful than I thought it would be.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>My Recovery…</b><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I started to get better I
looked worse. Thinner than ever. I was smaller by one size on my clothes and
that’s when I admitted I just went too far. People were already commenting on
my weight and I thought why don’t the
just SHUT UP??? They wanted me to lose all the weight in the first place!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But then, I realized people are
going to say things no matter what. Whatever you do- good or bad- something
just comes out of their mouths without permission. So the first thing I did was
shut their comments off and listened to myself for once. I never knew I was
deaf with my own thoughts. My mind was clouded with comments on how my arms
were bulging or how big my tummy is or how flabby my legs were. How it’d be
difficult for me to find a boyfriend because I was fat (it’s really difficult
for me though but it’s not about the fat). How big I was compared to the other
girls and so on.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Stick Skinny Girl wasn’t my
thing. I was forcing myself in the wrong area. My bone structure didn’t really
go well with what I was aiming for. Plus, I envy the butt of a black girl lulz.
So nope. Bad idea and I just went all through that crap just to realize
everything!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How I regained a more normal
eating habit is another story. But the lesson I learned after years and years
of trying to be skinny and acceptable is so cliché and mainstream that I wanna
cry. “LOVE YOURSELF”.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Yeah Yeah. Love yo self.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As cheesy as it seems, it was the
foundation of how I handled my insecurities. I didn’t love myself from the time
my brain registered that I was fat and ugly. Fat isn’t even supposed to be
ugly. It’s unhealthy. And girls above size 2 aren’t fat. They just happen to
belong in a different world other than a skinny-obsessed society.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With this, I quote my girl J.K.
Rowling: “Is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse
than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I started to love myself and
somehow, it changed how I view the world. How I viewed myself. It’s not an
overnight, miraculous change because I still do have my insecurities and my
weight battle is still on a subtle quest. But somehow, it gave me light to be
kinder, wiser and stronger. Kinder in a
sense that I know a lot of girls who go through this and it’s downright TOUGH.
And wiser that being FAT or gaining a little weight is not the end of the world
or the end of me. Most of all stronger because whenever an a** says I’m fat
(not because I’m medically obese but because I’m not like the society), screw
them. There is a lot in me more than my weight. And it’s a shame that instead
of seeing the fun, creative, smart, crazy side of people – others see the size
first! The f*cking external appearance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So this serves as a confession on
what I’ve gone through. It’s not the worse but it was my fight and I know that
someone out there is suffering all the same. The saddest part about it is that
people are so entranced with the norm of the society, they forget what’s
valuable underneath – and everybody, like a dead body, just seems to drift,
going with the flow.</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-38105789468318230662013-01-01T13:42:00.002+08:002013-09-26T15:45:07.146+08:00Merci, 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-O68Vz_OuVxaF_FWQjfoTluJ__MtABlFkYSADpTH4icnhDolBd8N_IXFIetKUVLDnKzu-bmvIZcQ-o1MclPfZbpEpNen5ZtGxS2HGNnbQrcHcGDkZ7YqcnTm1cKH1E2lNAtXmHIkgBPk/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-O68Vz_OuVxaF_FWQjfoTluJ__MtABlFkYSADpTH4icnhDolBd8N_IXFIetKUVLDnKzu-bmvIZcQ-o1MclPfZbpEpNen5ZtGxS2HGNnbQrcHcGDkZ7YqcnTm1cKH1E2lNAtXmHIkgBPk/s640/beach.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
2012 was a roller-coaster year for
me but I consider it as the best I’ve had so far. It had a lot of ups and
downs, setbacks and adjustments like a girl on PMS! I had moments where I had
no idea at all and memories that painted the bigger picture a little clearer.
All in all, I love this year and though it’s a little cheesy as I bid farewell
to my dear 2012, I’m kinda psyched for 2013.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I remember my New Year’s
resolution because I only had one. By the way, it’s the only resolution in my
life that I’ve managed to accomplish- which was to say “YES” as much as
possible. That’s it. One simple word, three simple letters. And it did a huge
impact in my life. It still is an ongoing resolution for 2013 as well since I
had so much fun doing it. So as a toast to 2012, here are some life lessons and
realizations the year has taught me.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">If it’s beef and it’s cheap, it’s
gonna be crap.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Talk to strangers. It’s not
harmful. And unlike friends, it’s easier to leave them if they creep you out.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Drink by the pool in your bikini.
It teaches you about self confidence once you’re drunk.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Give a cocky teenage boy a half
glass of whiskey and tell him to take a shot. He’s going to take it all up,
thinking it’s impressive. Ha! The fun starts afterwards.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Smile and nod. Use wisely. Works
every time.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Laugh. For chrissakes, laugh just
because.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Get lost. Somehow, you’ll find
more about yourself along the way.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Never underestimate the power of
long, solitary walks.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">It’s not really a big of a deal
as you think it should be.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">If you love lazy outfits e.g.:
large shirts, long tank tops, mini dresses that show off your legs, get used to
the question: “Are you wearing shorts under that thing?”</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Eat cake. For chrissakes, eat
cake just because.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">As you grow older and probably more
concerned with the society you belong in, you’ll realize that the hope- in
general- within you diminishes. I guess it’s normal but don’t, NEVER, let it
die out. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Go to the beach once in a while.
It gets you back to your senses.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Travel. Nothing is more
fulfilling than getting out there and seeing life from a different perspective. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">After graduation, you realize
what useless piece of dump you are. You don’t even own a frickin’ rice cooker. How
the hell will you live independently?</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Sometimes, the best decision is
to just go with it.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Never hold yourself back if
there’s something worthy of being marveled at. Express it the best way you can,
you don’t see something that amazing every day.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Buy a really good pair of
expensive shoes that you know will last for a long time and will never go out
of style. Then waste money on cutesy, cheap ones. This only applies to girls.
;)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">It’s not a pool party if you’re
NOT in the pool and drunk, right?</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Check yourself in the mirror
sometimes and look beyond. Do more than checking if your mascara is messed up.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Life is really simple. All you
gotta do is keep the ones that matter and let go of the things that don’t. It’s
only messed up because we do it the other way around.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Nothing brightens up a day better
than watching 2 Broke Girls.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Pinterest is deceiving and has
the ability to lower one’s self esteem. But like the plague, it’s difficult to
avoid it.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Like hot (stereotypical) girls, you
don’t take hot (stereotypical) guys seriously. I mean, who does???</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">There are just some things that
you can’t get over with. NEVER.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">You’d meet somebody of the
opposite sex that likes you but not in a relationship-bound kind of way. You’d
realize that sometimes, this feels better because you know they appreciate you
without the goal of getting in your pants. They simply think you’re cool and it
kinda warms your heart. (Not sure about this one though. I mean, guys hey? Get
real.)</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">The articles at Thought Catalogue
are very thought provoking. Be warned and don’t get carried away that easily.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">There are just some days where
all you wanna do is go for a DVD marathon, not wear a bra, not comb your hair
and not eat normal food the entire day. It’s therapeutic and I recommend it
once in a while.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">Three life principles: Nothing is
for free. Everything comes and goes. At the end of the day, it’s only ourselves
to blame.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li style="text-align: justify;">There is no such thing as
closure. Goodbyes aren’t enough especially when you’ve lost control of what’s
happening at the moment. Closure doesn’t occur even when you’re dead. I guess
that’s just life telling us to move on. There are better things ahead anyway.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Happy New Year! May yours be bright and better! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8AowQ9b4xkv_UCNVm6uFSU4wi-kaj4NJGZxqPm_TGIobdlqQ9pGBDsbH_r9917EgIyAWLj87AYq2RFsXmrbgBrAkDcPKwRoayM2uW4S2hnJ7FyI-CoCm-t24yQymHdByw1_VMXniEDQ/s1600/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="35" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_8AowQ9b4xkv_UCNVm6uFSU4wi-kaj4NJGZxqPm_TGIobdlqQ9pGBDsbH_r9917EgIyAWLj87AYq2RFsXmrbgBrAkDcPKwRoayM2uW4S2hnJ7FyI-CoCm-t24yQymHdByw1_VMXniEDQ/s200/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-52709363555189013152012-12-28T16:43:00.000+08:002013-09-26T15:46:34.001+08:00The Moment When I Forgot About the World (El Nido, Pt. 2) <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5O3NJeLbBtUaj4rk4gO7p6-SmsEM0ECyw8iZ79mSs_D9N1j5NISpDYfMfN0RQQA8UaKbCG_2uVYq21rSxVw_GRPAaAm7aEilpb0lK4mIOPdsLEs1LudXcOdpYQQxNRfTnSQFZtM-f5hA/s1600/1b11.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5O3NJeLbBtUaj4rk4gO7p6-SmsEM0ECyw8iZ79mSs_D9N1j5NISpDYfMfN0RQQA8UaKbCG_2uVYq21rSxVw_GRPAaAm7aEilpb0lK4mIOPdsLEs1LudXcOdpYQQxNRfTnSQFZtM-f5hA/s640/1b11.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Logged out, shut down and forgot about the
world. These were the exact things I did when I went to El Nido. Funny, I didn’t
have my laptop with me. My phone couldn’t access the internet as well. The
islands had my full attention and I didn’t think anything was worth the trouble
of being bothered. I was in El Nido in the first place! What more could I ask
for?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Our El Nido trip wasn’t part of the plan
but I’m more than happy that we went through it anyway. We all decided that
since we’re already in Puerto Princesa, why not go all the way?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">El Nido is six-seven hours away from Puerto
Princesa. And since we only had four days in Palawan, we squeezed in a day for
this getaway. There weren’t any rooms for proper sleep as we had to travel on
land by 3 in the morning so that we’d get there by 9. Plus, thanks to my
friend, Stolichnaya, I brought along a little hangover with me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">The smooth drive gave me some time to sleep
in the van. Our first stop over was three hours away from our destination and
it gave us time to have our breakfast. I had to get coffee in my veins and wake
my senses up. It didn’t really give me the energy I wanted but who cares? I
slept it off more once we got on the road again. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhva96NfEJI4trFJyx1hvNX_Diu40BeaSkajmPDPVrEusoaVXFT3NCxGadFrWmSkglCjnSay4bqw7d0DA1_3Ms7cqY_N7AoVQao-ipyfyqUCFeoWWy99hyr8knjV_oNSbp9E_ZEox3V_cI/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhva96NfEJI4trFJyx1hvNX_Diu40BeaSkajmPDPVrEusoaVXFT3NCxGadFrWmSkglCjnSay4bqw7d0DA1_3Ms7cqY_N7AoVQao-ipyfyqUCFeoWWy99hyr8knjV_oNSbp9E_ZEox3V_cI/s400/4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">The whole drive was a blur mainly because
my eyes were closed the whole time. As soon as I felt OK, it was also about
time that we were near El Nido. This gave me the realization of how I haven’t
thought much about the trip. I saw photos of El Nido on the internet but we all
know photos could be deceiving. I suddenly felt that I was going somewhere I
never had any idea about. It somehow made me feel excited and anxious at the
same time. However, excitement reigns. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKX1UKVpuDNu_Af30_cafW9mJgAFrf7eMfgAMZUFIFzdvb9h1P28jxDNHMSpExbNio_RnGZ5mwtbWyJQP0-g36AhyphenhyphenR7DUSWZ198meMfTKXmwyVvm1RuutPFPvdFW-zkSMbVK_ZAMDkS2g/s1600/3q8.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKX1UKVpuDNu_Af30_cafW9mJgAFrf7eMfgAMZUFIFzdvb9h1P28jxDNHMSpExbNio_RnGZ5mwtbWyJQP0-g36AhyphenhyphenR7DUSWZ198meMfTKXmwyVvm1RuutPFPvdFW-zkSMbVK_ZAMDkS2g/s400/3q8.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">After minutes of static views of fields and
mountains, the first sight of El Nido was this gigantic limestone karst
formation that’s taller than a skyscraper from the road. I suddenly had goose
bumps all over. I literally wanted to get in the water right that minute! I see
the humble Nipa huts and small houses in the area and thought how lucky the
locals are to see such view every day. The first glimpse got me dumbfounded. I
couldn’t wait for what’s more. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The original plan was to not spend the
night in El Nido and go home that same day. But judging the six-hour road trip,
it was wise to get a good rest before hitting the road once again. Thankfully,
we managed to get a walk-in accommodation at Friendly Inn. Indeed, the place
and of course, the prices are friendly. It was perfect.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckX1F_NGmjGs_Q10iYVlWL5SxEzSfe5ZdKVjl3fWAuF_BqV2G5Lq2S2lH4Q98Rff87yOuTXnZnpfF9-neMY5CFU3erLvu0zDP0VP2ucnmr4rDltEFrk1XiM8hJzuStm0cDVUeLJj32gU/s1600/1aa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjckX1F_NGmjGs_Q10iYVlWL5SxEzSfe5ZdKVjl3fWAuF_BqV2G5Lq2S2lH4Q98Rff87yOuTXnZnpfF9-neMY5CFU3erLvu0zDP0VP2ucnmr4rDltEFrk1XiM8hJzuStm0cDVUeLJj32gU/s400/1aa.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Our excitement couldn’t hold itself any
longer as we hurried to the shore where our boats wait. The moment I had a
better view, I couldn’t believe that I was finally there. My feet were firmly
planted on the fine white sand. I can hear the rush of the waves, smell the
salty breeze, feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, most of all see the
picturesque horizon right before my eyes. The photos I’ve been staring at the
internet for so long, I could already see in real life. I was more than
psyched. Pure bliss was what it was.</div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtSG5Zgn4kYh66vtYGNDGnyjge6tLR0PofvqrQLRa8CRY0lBl9Wid0ainO3Fu-7G_LpjHJO0hvsRfrPkR-By56V6K5GCbtfY2g1l9V47PHLVm5uoZKrsiyniuOaTWWhpedsgcWKM-yVc/s1600/1d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGtSG5Zgn4kYh66vtYGNDGnyjge6tLR0PofvqrQLRa8CRY0lBl9Wid0ainO3Fu-7G_LpjHJO0hvsRfrPkR-By56V6K5GCbtfY2g1l9V47PHLVm5uoZKrsiyniuOaTWWhpedsgcWKM-yVc/s400/1d.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">El Nido has over forty islands where a day
consists of 1-2 sets of tours. One tour is comprised of a friendly tour guide
and a boatman that takes you to five beautiful islands or lagoons. Also, lunch
is included. So this is how our tour went: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU">The
Big Lagoon</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">About 20 minutes away from the town’s port,
our first stop was the Big Lagoon. This was one of the most famous spots in El
Nido’s set of islands and anyone can easily see why. For a few minutes, the
only words that came out of my mouth were “wow”, “oh my God” and “amazing”. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">You know when you see a great photo of a
place and when you’re finally physically there, you’re kind of disappointed
because it’s not the same. El Nido isn’t one of these. In fact, to be honest,
it’s the other way around. Seeing every bit of the area and feeling its entire
presence made me shudder in a good way.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQIPAQHs9jkukf8SPM5FwXydWx-xAU9LUcDQ0FS8YX3CWhO2oQvO3d8RLVh0xB_EfUqTBVfIvijrsa0P7S83me0svsAlnKxkW3yZ1EY2iFMQ-oL5X4EDMsS0GX12G3-Wm8oPcGXwMmdA/s1600/1l6.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQIPAQHs9jkukf8SPM5FwXydWx-xAU9LUcDQ0FS8YX3CWhO2oQvO3d8RLVh0xB_EfUqTBVfIvijrsa0P7S83me0svsAlnKxkW3yZ1EY2iFMQ-oL5X4EDMsS0GX12G3-Wm8oPcGXwMmdA/s400/1l6.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">Positive descriptions aren’t enough but if
I had to say one thing about the place, it’ INSPIRING. Somehow, it gave me a
sense of pride for my country. The Philippines owns this place. On the other
hand, the “highway” literally swept me off my feet. I shared a moment of
silence with Mother Nature as I breathed everything in. Oh yes, that moment I
knew I was happy. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU">Lunch<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">Our tummies were all rumbling and we were
all looking forward for an island lunch. Our lovely tour guides were happy to
serve us good food so we had to stop over a secluded island where they could
grill our delicious island food. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">While we waited for the food, we all took
the time to enjoy the place. We snorkelled, took a dip in the water and lay
around on the sand. I would definitely consider this as one of my life’s most
unforgettable lunches. By the beach under a tree in an island, in the middle of
other islands that we only had for ourselves. It was perfect. Not to mention,
the food was superb! Island food at its finest. NOM NOM. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU">Shimizu
Island<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">After sipping a few island drinks, we were
off to another area in El Nido. Since we filled our tummies with fresh fish, I
think it was highly ironic that we fed the fish next. Shimizu Island is
home to a large school of fish that are hungry all day. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-6OZMTyvdzNTxooF-ilwJgZCa8fkiuaWfxrioKCju2h5l8zpVBN0e7qos23Sn3tka6GquCUfbary64HLAt7440OygzEG1MxCbcSCV-oOtGUGw9oiKcVzpb4Wtguhptuaf7HtXXgMLU4/s1600/3c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-6OZMTyvdzNTxooF-ilwJgZCa8fkiuaWfxrioKCju2h5l8zpVBN0e7qos23Sn3tka6GquCUfbary64HLAt7440OygzEG1MxCbcSCV-oOtGUGw9oiKcVzpb4Wtguhptuaf7HtXXgMLU4/s400/3c.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">Once our boat stopped in the middle of the
water, I can see a swarm underneath. And when the boatman threw a handful of
rice in, I was mesmerized. Fishes were quickly finding their way to
the surface. We all wore our snorkels and jumped in together with these hungry fellows. </span></div>
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<b><span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU">Small
Lagoon<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">A little tired from feeding and swimming
with the fish, we all needed a break. Luckily, we were bound to the Small
Lagoon. Compared to the Big Lagoon, this is more secluded and covered. There’s
a small passageway where boats cannot pass. They need to dock outside and we
have to lead ourselves in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">Since we were all tired and the water was
said to be 30 meters deep, it was not such good idea to frolic in the water.
Our tour guide saw us struggle and probably think it was funny but was too kind
to help us through. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">With our life jackets on, we lay in the
water on our backs and held the foot that was on our heads. The tour guide then
dragged us along in the water and at that moment, the only thing that was
running through my head was that I was there. I was literally there. Enjoying
every bit of the moment. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">The Small Lagoon had a certain charm that
captures you by the minute. It has an eerily enchanted aura- as if the rocks
are alive and watching you and the waters are holding you. It was mysteriously
quiet. Yet you hear the sound of the wind and every sound that came from our
voices reverberates. Everything was calming to the soul. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-AU">7
Commando Beach<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">On our last stop, our goal was to witness
the sunset. I have seen several majestic sunsets in my life and all I could
attest is that each is incomparable to the others. Every sunset holds a
different feel because it happened at a different time and involved different
people. And this was one of those special moments.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uTZNZd3g0uUKkj5VNqGkIg3ttbc3qnM32T50peQJXZH1OaPrYPjRVEvcz4zLjEzg69KXhgQ6RmMBVy_PGkVDSMVgmdXVTXSCF54twdyyiF0QWW_h9Hy7fC9GbI1ZK2nVTNA0XQ_iJTE/s1600/4c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1uTZNZd3g0uUKkj5VNqGkIg3ttbc3qnM32T50peQJXZH1OaPrYPjRVEvcz4zLjEzg69KXhgQ6RmMBVy_PGkVDSMVgmdXVTXSCF54twdyyiF0QWW_h9Hy7fC9GbI1ZK2nVTNA0XQ_iJTE/s400/4c.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-AU">We’ve come a long way and when the day was
about to end, we all wanted it to be special. 7 Commando beach was a long strip
of fine white sand facing a wide horizon that consisted of orange and purple
hues. The water was perfect. The time was perfect. We all waited for the sun to
go as we bid the islands goodbye. Going back to the shore, I mentally crossed
out El Nido on my bucket list. I was already thinking of going back and I
haven’t even left yet. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-87561014299123868572012-11-23T00:14:00.000+08:002012-11-24T20:37:02.059+08:00Let Loose and Get Lost. Then Find Yourself in Palawan (Puerto Princesa Pt. 1)<br />
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The smell of the salty
breeze, the rush of the waves at shore, my flowing Sunday dress and a good
company. The heavens were as happy and as bright as what I felt inside.
Finally, I was in paradise. Better yet, I was in Palawan.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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A humungous slab of
land situated on the West Philippine Sea, Palawan is an island that boasts and
without a doubt delivers highly impressive natural attributes. And when I tell
it like this to someone who has been to Palawan as well, it would sound more of
a cliché than something that’s exaggerated. Believe me, I’m not the kind who is
too fond of hyperbolic form of speech. But when I’m in such place that bestows
white sand beaches, glistening waters, jaw-dropping land and rock formations,
friendly locals and a clean environment, I’d be more than happy speak of it in
a colorful manner.</div>
<a name='more'></a><o:p></o:p><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Day -25 (Weeks before
the Trip):</span></b></div>
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The whole trip started
when my work colleagues found a promotional air fare in Cebu Pacific. In line with Davao’s introductory route to Puerto Princesa, we got a great price for our
plane tickets. This gave our lovely Managing Director, Ms. Rica Gadi, the idea
of bringing all fourteen of us for a ManCom assembly. After a few nudges and slight prodding, it was
set and we were booked! The only thing with promo fares was that the flight
schedule is quite far from the date of the booking. This means we had to go
through a longer time of waiting- more like four weeks- and keep all of our excitement
to ourselves until the time comes (which by the way, some failed to do so.
HAHA). But patience is a virtue, and good things come to those who wait. And
when the day of the trip finally came, it was definitely better than what
everybody has expected. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Day 1:<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b>DVO to PPR<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Our flight was scheduled to leave Davao at 830 in the morning and all of us had to be at the airport by 6 AM. I
woke up early and checked the weather forecast in Palawan on the internet for
the nth time. It was a bit gloomy in Davao but I was convinced that the weather
wouldn’t be the same a thousand kilometers away. The weather forecast website
said that there was an 80% chance of precipitation that Sunday. I told myself
since when did the country have accurate forecasts? But anyway, I didn’t let
the thought bring me down and when I reached the airport, I was glad I wasn’t
the earliest bird. Once we were all present, we checked-in, got our tickets and
off to Puerto Princesa we went! <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyInnCXD0ajmNtu0uBDhaUBEieMVppSC7Ed_kL307tSCFLRYk63tLbbMlJphUNkaTkNi2ff3SMWMGHMHLgxPSaiFdlh6eENfqBzsoMP-sx81-lYrNOFhG04I08FfDNLYIHvEjMqgfOMCo/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Cebu Pacific Puerto Princesa" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyInnCXD0ajmNtu0uBDhaUBEieMVppSC7Ed_kL307tSCFLRYk63tLbbMlJphUNkaTkNi2ff3SMWMGHMHLgxPSaiFdlh6eENfqBzsoMP-sx81-lYrNOFhG04I08FfDNLYIHvEjMqgfOMCo/s400/9.jpg" title="daldalitangfroglet.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thank you, NOW Outsourcing Service and thank you, Cebu Pacific! We're on our way!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Touchdown, Puerto
Princesa</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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It was a bit of a
bumpy ride but I was surprised and more than happy to see that it was bright
and sunny in Puerto Princesa. In fact, the weather was hot and humid for
November. I didn’t mind, it was perfect for a day at the beach anyway. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On our first day, we
decided to act like locals. We rented a house so that all fourteen of us could fit
in and save more on the accommodation. It was a four-bedroom house that’s
equipped with three bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room and a living room as well
as a spacious front yard. Once we got into our designated rooms, we went to the
local markets and see what’s in store. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVNrUnjMUXIqahtBp2LOcoMeh3Ed5LJcWSD_wBxNRONCNXmOJ2rAiOr0PGWuAfOAdkdbOPh5nMSRHmrvRjGrjZsJu2TtxePAdR-JjD3oc56ybDOP8AaQ79linyxi_OalN08nb4DpCyhM/s1600/1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Puerto Princesa accommodations" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNVNrUnjMUXIqahtBp2LOcoMeh3Ed5LJcWSD_wBxNRONCNXmOJ2rAiOr0PGWuAfOAdkdbOPh5nMSRHmrvRjGrjZsJu2TtxePAdR-JjD3oc56ybDOP8AaQ79linyxi_OalN08nb4DpCyhM/s400/1.JPG" title="daldalitangfroglet.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The house where we stayed at.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VfRJqqGT50PCUSPShNhdVkzCGCRXzJ9_8fvhW7ao7t4bPMduETr6XylAOsQU1LJ9vOwJVgBTsSC_TE9UD0SWfQsZ5yhRHr2oJlZ4cVLLzJVgrVYKXhBatv2Wi9fvC9HcMcz9iQUlpq0/s1600/13.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="puerto princesa shopping" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VfRJqqGT50PCUSPShNhdVkzCGCRXzJ9_8fvhW7ao7t4bPMduETr6XylAOsQU1LJ9vOwJVgBTsSC_TE9UD0SWfQsZ5yhRHr2oJlZ4cVLLzJVgrVYKXhBatv2Wi9fvC9HcMcz9iQUlpq0/s400/13.JPG" title="daldalitangfroglet.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First stop, the grocery store</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TbAPE9PPw-pUwCRW_Lxg3nLT5XNMwMZNFK1vFnv8W4n6R0pG9r-XeQcAmVEDym01lYn6jSGk5SLS7UBN5H3NHGezzP7ena2vGBiWIYysucpalXD_6rVinuSEXH2N11fAzZiyYvZFvHg/s1600/DSC02591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="puerto princesa market" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2TbAPE9PPw-pUwCRW_Lxg3nLT5XNMwMZNFK1vFnv8W4n6R0pG9r-XeQcAmVEDym01lYn6jSGk5SLS7UBN5H3NHGezzP7ena2vGBiWIYysucpalXD_6rVinuSEXH2N11fAzZiyYvZFvHg/s400/DSC02591.JPG" title="daldalitangfroglet.blogspot.com" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the city's local market</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxeXRFAmPYfcBWRPbRdGPhYgLUGuPPG_jhzfils9jzFNeNvwZstKU07rZ2RJWWvwdeJp12QP5hBsKZKcRX98qn92UtvlhviM6UXXwd8LLs0w_B9_OGQhz0nl27JN5R8k_Usmk1pYob-c/s1600/DSC02592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="lobsters philippines" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdxeXRFAmPYfcBWRPbRdGPhYgLUGuPPG_jhzfils9jzFNeNvwZstKU07rZ2RJWWvwdeJp12QP5hBsKZKcRX98qn92UtvlhviM6UXXwd8LLs0w_B9_OGQhz0nl27JN5R8k_Usmk1pYob-c/s400/DSC02592.JPG" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A crowd favorite. Lobsters for sale.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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For a late lunch, we
went to Thalia’s Chaolong. Chaolong is a Vietnamese specialty that’s famous in
Palawan. The island was inhabited by locals from Vietnam in the past during the
war that some of the culture’s remnants are still visible in the area- most
especially its cuisine. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihn6V_8PGHXOethyJYtLCyk4DRwNeUeeOt5wrsSQQP9R1iGC0pdnrZYJcnwL1x_bpQNS_81xPggPDaqVJH5wq6tqnPax702nwL-fPS1sYNgocfrMXrZ-_n0sXTYpwAR_3pDj5nai_qtq8/s1600/20.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="chaolong" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihn6V_8PGHXOethyJYtLCyk4DRwNeUeeOt5wrsSQQP9R1iGC0pdnrZYJcnwL1x_bpQNS_81xPggPDaqVJH5wq6tqnPax702nwL-fPS1sYNgocfrMXrZ-_n0sXTYpwAR_3pDj5nai_qtq8/s400/20.JPG" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">YUM!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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The noodle soup was
new to me. Compared to the salty and savory taste of Chinese noodles as to which
I’m used to, this was a bit on the sweeter and tangier side. With an added
hotness from the chili sauce and fresh aroma from the Monggo sprouts and basil leaves,
Chaolong was indeed refreshing to the palate and of course, satisfying to the soul. We ended
the day with preparation as the coming days were jam-packed. The house we
rented gave us the convenience to cook our meals, prepare our stuff as well as
create bonds that are rarely seen among us when in the office. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Day 2<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b>Ugong Rock and
Underground River<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Puerto Princesa earned
its most prestigious recognition around the world when the Underground River
was acclaimed as one of the 7 Wonders of Nature. After the global announcement,
the city’s tourism went through a drastic increase. <o:p></o:p></div>
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It takes about three
hours to reach Sabang Beach, where the Underground River is located, from
Puerto Princesa’s main area. To get there, tourists need to hire a van for a
price of 3000 PHP. We left the house at 6 in the morning and the whole drive
was scenic, smooth sailing yet a bit challenging on some of the terrain’s bumpy
parts. To sum it up, the entire journey was never a bore.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before getting to the
main destination, we stopped by Ugong Rock Adventures. Based on its name, it’s a rock but
a gigantic one that has a cave inside. People could go in and spelunk, explore and
zip line down once they reach the top exit. The proceeds of the spelunking and
zip line fees go to the local school in the vicinity as well as nature
preservation projects. I took a pass on this part as I hate enclosed spaces. But
all in all, it was fun as I got to see my colleagues enjoy their experience. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WHVib8FxVOYddFbKSnKpZbeSLJo51gCnxKMxmDTfYgGGxYVhca7ECMztNXE2-D8haabMnd4_MuTltLsx6IjLtM0O_L4gPCtISxPC31WpTSX7JIgVY3eoGuY9DU_TjzKvt2C8V6Fuyxo/s1600/1c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Ugong Rock" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1WHVib8FxVOYddFbKSnKpZbeSLJo51gCnxKMxmDTfYgGGxYVhca7ECMztNXE2-D8haabMnd4_MuTltLsx6IjLtM0O_L4gPCtISxPC31WpTSX7JIgVY3eoGuY9DU_TjzKvt2C8V6Fuyxo/s400/1c.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a></div>
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Next stop, the
Underground River at last! After lunch, we had to make sure our permits were OK
and that our booking was on reserved schedule. Due to the demand, it’s advised to book at
least one month ahead of time if ever you’re planning to see UR. Walk-ins rarely
get to go.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-Et5S6QvuTMG5soOuVGPPb1eWwBbQAqv3gv1HMpP9-wwbMCVF6HZFP2qO5QuH0zbMs89EFlHWbzC7BR6d2ulRdL0fiE4KrJLhECP6gg_VKkhyphenhyphenQzoLwgUE-f5tsSLU1QpbOkgHe9eekE/s1600/1i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Sabang Beach" border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-Et5S6QvuTMG5soOuVGPPb1eWwBbQAqv3gv1HMpP9-wwbMCVF6HZFP2qO5QuH0zbMs89EFlHWbzC7BR6d2ulRdL0fiE4KrJLhECP6gg_VKkhyphenhyphenQzoLwgUE-f5tsSLU1QpbOkgHe9eekE/s400/1i.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a></div>
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From the Sabang port,
a small boat took us to the other side of the coast. Swarmed with tourists, we
followed the path that led to the back portion of the area- where the river
was. As we took our own life jackets and hard hats, we waited for the boat and
the tour guide to take us in the cave. On a side note, the hard hats aren’t
for the possibility of “falling rocks”. They’re actually intended for the “falling guano”
(bat shit). HAHA. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEbX5wYTp1H0UZN-zmvp14c8c8YwCwaYYLYXdyZ83Myqh5-L9QFUSOuEafu0nVFzXi_i2ac4HZzStigsM6XbUbnhoIlm-EA0f_2Vp-kquszkI6SDfifssM34U_oBlpvZP7XZ4zYiva0iY/s1600/1q.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEbX5wYTp1H0UZN-zmvp14c8c8YwCwaYYLYXdyZ83Myqh5-L9QFUSOuEafu0nVFzXi_i2ac4HZzStigsM6XbUbnhoIlm-EA0f_2Vp-kquszkI6SDfifssM34U_oBlpvZP7XZ4zYiva0iY/s400/1q.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Eight people can fit
the small boat where the one in front is assigned to hold the light. Once
inside, it’s pitch black and the only light was the boat’s. The Underground River
was nothing like anything I’ve ever seen before. I can’t believe I was under a
humungous limestone karst that has developed thousands of rock formations in a
span of millions of years. I couldn’t help myself gasping in amazement but I didn’t
forget to cover my mouth with my hands as I might catch bat poop in. Yuck.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I have to say
something to convince someone to see the Underground River, I would say “see it
for yourself”. It’s not worth hearing it from me as you can only truly know what the
place is all about once you go. Puerto Princesa is definitely one of a kind and it is something that's beyond worthy of being explored. In unison with the passionate for adventure and nature, this destination shouldn't be missed.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>cont.</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0Palawan, Philippines9.4462305 118.39294175.439873 113.3392307 13.452588 123.44665269999999tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-28391937786615714062012-09-08T22:54:00.001+08:002013-09-26T15:48:51.164+08:00Manila Blues<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://fbcdn-sphotos-d-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/11259_1207223715065_1399898_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img alt="Rose Vendor in Malate (c)" border="0" height="480" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-d-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/11259_1207223715065_1399898_n.jpg" title="Rose Vendor in Malate" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
A work colleague told me the
other day that he was thankful he didn’t grow up in Manila. I asked him why
even though I sort of knew what he meant to say. So he answered “kasi hindi
masama ugali ko.” (Because I’m not mean). I knew it was a joke but I did agree
somehow. Honestly speaking, it’s understandable that living in an environment
like Manila, you do get a bit of a tough persona.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Maybe it’s because of the density of the
population, the pollution, the competition, the dog-eat-dog atmosphere, the
traffic, the ignorant tourists, the ignorant provincial people, the ignorant
city rats, the snatchers, the prima donnas, the dirty old men, the pervs, the
hustlers, the psychos, the mentally challenged, the beggars, the trying hard
American accent of call centre agents, the social climber-milk tea addicted skinny
bitches, the mountainous piles of garbage, the streets that smell like cat pee
and rotten vegetables, the hot guys with ugly girlfriends, the "exotic" Filipinas with
ugly fat foreigner boyfriends, the buses that seem like they’re in a grand
prix, the trains that never fail to
suffocate, the banners of asshole politicians on every corner of the streets,
the irresponsible unkempt, cigarette-smoking mother with scruffy children, the
power-tripping mofos or that drunk guy that’s sitting beside you in the jeepney.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">I’m not even done yet but I just thought
that was enough explaining at the moment. Manila is like a hot pot of
everything that sometimes you just don’t know what’s going on in front of you. It’s
unbelievable how in a fracture of a few minutes, several scenarios occur at the
same time right before you! The funny thing is, you find yourself standing
there dumbfounded at the height of the commotion. Or in my case, i do that most
of the time. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">A man is stabbed three meters away from
you; your first instinct is to run away for your life. No. You wouldn’t bother telling
the police because you’d think “what if they’re accomplices?”. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">A woman, helpless and seemed like in her
mid thirties approaches you and asks you for help. She needed money for her
fare back to some province. You get the nearest change within your bag pocket
and hand her the change without even looking at her. She thanks you, you
continue to walk away.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">You see children outside of a posh coffee
shop wet from the downpour of the rain as you sit on a comfy couch sipping an
overpriced coffee. You stare at them but you’re not so sure about how you feel.
Plus, the frappe is just too good to ignore. You've worked for that damned overpriced coffee and all you wanted was to enjoy the moment.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">All that’s happening before you sometimes
get you so confused that you tend to create your own space, your own little
bubble. As long as nobody touches it, you’re good. I’ve done this technique a
thousand times that it came to a point where I had to question myself, “am I
really that insensitive?”. And then as easily as I could, I brush it all off.
Like it was no big deal. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-AU">The big city has taught me to walk on my
own direction and as much as possible not to mind the others. The fast paced
atmosphere entraps the people in their own little world, doing their own little
things that there are times when a certain “disturbance” can cause a whole fuss or maybe not even cause anything at all.
I never noticed any of that. Up until I started to live somewhere else. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-69063183336409236962012-07-06T22:53:00.001+08:002012-07-06T22:53:36.881+08:00Amidst Everything and Everything in Between<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIe_eCTKiJiJAv6lyYeb5lAGC7iRuSoZe8fnVjvEOTdPXaoy0Z6-uxcHEAW75WwKf3zDbASxg2HKP0OeFDqBZ8sbQuXkqpZ8X6o6f463bqt0cz_JYr8g9h6Qe4cZumicbkmnwENQBGxc/s1600/218776494368159063_XlGSk7VI_f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzIe_eCTKiJiJAv6lyYeb5lAGC7iRuSoZe8fnVjvEOTdPXaoy0Z6-uxcHEAW75WwKf3zDbASxg2HKP0OeFDqBZ8sbQuXkqpZ8X6o6f463bqt0cz_JYr8g9h6Qe4cZumicbkmnwENQBGxc/s640/218776494368159063_XlGSk7VI_f.jpg" width="476" /></a></div>
<br />
A simple reminder about the finer things in life. I saw this photo today and suddenly it hit me. I am not the kind of person who is too fond of the idea of love as most people perceive it to be. I don't really bask too much on its definition. More so, I have never treated this affection as highly as I have treated loyalty, kindness, determination and justness. But I do know that it is something precious, something rare and something genuine. The only problem is, I cannot seem to fully define it because of how the society portrays this overused word, literally and metaphorically.<br />
<br />
And then I saw this post. Somehow, it gave me a lot to think about.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-22901302269334058202012-07-04T22:24:00.001+08:002012-07-05T09:10:22.083+08:00Sending You a Letter for It Is More Heartfelt<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Hi.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I don’t want to
be your girlfriend. I don’t want to be your anything. But I like you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I know it’s what
you feel as well. I know I’m just someone random in your life. Someone to help
you with your “thing”. But then, you like me too. And we both know our bodies
want each other. We want to explore each other’s secret spots. We want to cover
ourselves up in just sheets and shy the night away making sweet, sweet love. We
want to grab each other really hard and intense, test where our kisses would
reach, where our hands would land and our breaths would meet.</span></div>
<a name='more'></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white;">I like how your
smell stays on the edges of my nostrils. How your fingers brush through my hair
and your hands extending all the way to my lower back, bringing my body closer
to yours, our legs entwined. The way your tongue wets my lower lip warmly and
how your bites tickle the back of my neck. You make me crazy as hell when you
grope at my perky breasts, play with it using the tips of your fingers and yes,
the tip of your tongue. You give me that instant rush whenever you reach the
insides of my legs and yes, it makes me feel brand new.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Your kisses are
electrifying. Your manhood is an explosion in my inner body that reaches up to
my brain, shakes my nerves awake and leaves it trembling for a minute or two
when everything’s over. And I would want you more. I would give in- no
inhibitions- like I have never gave in before. Forgetting about what’s going to
happen tomorrow because now is what matters. Now is what’s important as your
eyes meet the windows of my soul and your smile sends me a warm message
somewhere inside me that’s near my chest. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">I will ignore
that little voice in my head, saying, “I am stupid”. Because even though I know
I am from the very beginning, I would be more of an idiot if I had not decided
to go with you. If I didn’t say yes, I wouldn’t have known you. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I wouldn’t have
known what your fears are, the little things about you and why you’re like that. I
wouldn’t have understood your quirks. Why you’re keeping such a nonchalant,
unconcerned exterior. Why you’re living life the way it pleases you and not the
way it should run you. I wouldn’t have met someone who can be smart and an
asshole at the same time. Someone who’s brave and scared. Someone who’s concerned and careless. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">But then, it brings
me back to the beginning. I can never be yours. And most certainly, you can
never be mine. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I’d like to
think we’re in a bubble. As long as it stays, we stay. None of us know when
it’s going to pop and disappear into the oblivion. But when it happens, we stay
civil about it and accept the fact that bubbles are meant to be that way. And
then we blow a new one even though it’s not the same. It’s never going to be
the same. However, we stick to our belief that bubbles always make us happy.
Well, it makes me happy at least. I love the idea of how I can replace the ones
that have disappeared easily without feeling bad about it. Without feeling any
guilt. Because then again, they were meant to be that way. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">And we are meant
to be this way. I love the fact that I am enveloped in your arms. But I am
aware that I am alone and never have I expected you to rescue me from this
issue of mine. I am aware of the fact that you are going to leave. And I will
not stop you. Do you want to know why? It’s simply because I may leave as well,
eventually. And I don’t want you to stop me. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Because even
though both of us fit to a T, you and I cannot be together. Because one way or
another, one of us will take a different life course and the other one is going
to be left behind. And even if one of us agreed to conform to the other, one of
us is going to regret it and one of us is going to live in guilt. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">So this is why I
like you. With all of my body and my soul, I do. But I can never be your
girlfriend. Or the least, give you something that’s more of what I’m giving you
right now.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">So, bye. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=5692828171914487244" name="_GoBack"></a> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i>I wrote this piece a couple of months back as I had a surge of inspiration after watching a film that happened to be a love story. Though I am not too fond of the overrated idea of love, I did like the movie. So I tried to write something about the L-word or something similar to it rather. And this is how it turned out. </i> <i>If you're too square and narrow-minded, you'd find this explicit. I don't care. </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYc_Fqdtk1-6bMMTuIDD303kqym2mRnoaT9lx5Xfckde0fowvToSWEhL4i_6Uh-vUJmAno4Hv2mZ8zVYQdzTSYQhK5jed4QfLcrbm3cm4z7ts7rYTOXjunIs-po_ISEQX_4j_coMZjLA8/s1600/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="35" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYc_Fqdtk1-6bMMTuIDD303kqym2mRnoaT9lx5Xfckde0fowvToSWEhL4i_6Uh-vUJmAno4Hv2mZ8zVYQdzTSYQhK5jed4QfLcrbm3cm4z7ts7rYTOXjunIs-po_ISEQX_4j_coMZjLA8/s200/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><i><br /></i></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-84377810916020611542012-06-28T22:00:00.002+08:002012-06-28T22:02:56.707+08:00Torn Between Two Lovers<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh my g! Oh my
g! Nakakalooookaaah! Confusion ang peg ko today. Ang haba ba ng hair? Abot
Japan? Abot Japan? Paano naman kasi, not one but two ang mahal ko these days!
Charot. Sabi nga nila, bawal ka daw magsagwan sa dalawang ilog or something
like that. Naturalmente! Try mo sagwanin koya. Try mo lang.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Haaay layf. Kung
bakit kasi kailangan ko mag decide. According to Renz Verano, sana dalawa ang
puso ko with matching husky voice pa nga eh. Ay mali. Si Janno Gibbs pala
kumanta nun. Hihi. Sowee phowz. Sana nga talaga dalawa na lang din ako. Isa na
kay lovey doods number one and the other one kay wishart number two. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Ang hard kasi
pumili! Naloloka ako ng very light. Let me explain kasi…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"></span><br />
<a name='more'></a><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Ang love of my
life ko talaga is si lovey doods number one. Paano naman kasi since birth
kilala na ako niyan. Chos! Nakita niya ang dugyot days ko – si damak girl.
Chubby ko pa nun pero keri lang. O sige. Overweight na. Leche. Kaso
nagkahiwalay kami saglit. Mga ten years lang naman. But you know what? I still
can’t believe that loveydoods waited for me. Even for a really long time! How
can someone wait for ten freaking years and still embrace me in their arms as
if nothing happened? How?! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Ang kaso nga
lang… ten years after, I’ve changed. Sumexy na ako. Tumalino. Well matalino na
talaga ako bata pa lang ako in fair. But that’s not the point. Anyway, nag-iba
na ang point of views ko sa life. Natuto na akong mag-ayos ng sarili, sumuot ng
mini skirt at rumampa rampa sa kalye. Jowk. Hahaha. In short, that’s when I met
my wishart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Haaay wishart.
At first mygaaad talaga! Na intimidate ako ng bongga! Paano naman kasi coming
from loveydoods number one, parang cannot be reached si koya. Ang pogi pogi
niya tingnan sa picture. Tapos ang sosyal sosyal. Kaso nga lang may tinatago
siya. Hindi naman baho. Pero parang ganun na nga. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Magkaibang
magkaiba talaga sila. That’s why ang choosy ni froglet! Let me explain kasi ah.
Yun eh kung gusto mo lang naman na i-explain ko. If not then gora na te! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-US">Case study
numerow unowww: Loveydoods<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Kung knowing mo
ang mga internet memes, siya talaga si Good Guy Greg. Kung hindi mo pa know,
GMG a.k.a. i-Google mo, Gago. Hahaha. Just kidding! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I feel very sheltered
whenever I’m with my love. As if there’s nothing to worry about. As if I deserve
to be spoiled even though I’m very much aware that I shouldn’t be. But then it
leaves me helpless. I cannot resist all the goodness. After all, it somehow
feels like home. I cannot entirely claim it to be my home though, because
there’s something about it that effortlessly holds me back. It’s as if you
enter the most majestic room you can ever imagine yet there’s this huge lump in
your throat and a loud whisper that says “something is missing”. And all of a
sudden you know it’s not for you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">You know that
somewhere between the lines, you shouldn’t be here. Is it because of too much
goodness that I tend to rebel against it? Or maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been
gone too long? I don’t know. I just cannot depict what’s holding me back but
I’m sure there’s something. This is the part where it pains me to leave. I
swear not a single morsel of my body wants to leave. Because whenever I do, it
crushes me a little inside and I’d long for it more. But my instincts. Curse my
instincts. They beg to disagree. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i><span lang="EN-US">Case Study
numerrow dos: Wishart<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Ah. Sweet, sweet
love. This one’s a tough cookie. This one’s the bitter pill, the pain in the
ass. At first I found myself asking, how will I be able to love someone that
doesn’t even love me back? But in the end, after all the things that have
happened– I felt fulfilled. I felt empowered. I felt stronger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I hated
everything at first. I was cursing every little detail that came my way because
truthfully, it was what it was- worthy of being cursed. Where I have been, nothing
was the same. And the sad fact was, it was not in a good way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">Every day I
longed to go back to how it was. But it was impossible. I needed to grow and I
needed to move on. So move on I did. Surprisingly, I learned to love little by
little. Maybe I got used to it. Maybe I just got numb. But somewhere between everything, something transpired. I finally understood the formula. It wasn't him. It was me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">I was so
narrow-minded. Thinking about myself all the time, I forgot about what he felt-
what he really was. And the moment I selflessly gave him the chance, I knew. He
wasn’t such an asshole after all. In fact, amidst the horrible things people
say about him, I realized it was because they focused on the bad and forgot
about the good. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US">It was with him
that I felt real. He was with me at my darkest times. And uplifted me by giving me
the gift of finding something rare. That amidst all the chaos, there was peace,
there was something genuine. The kind of
peace that I haven’t found anywhere else. Moreover, he was exciting! Oh God knew what we've done. He was definitely a charmer. But at the same time, he was stern. His
inconsistency taught me to be smart in the streets and swift at life. His valor
forced me to be brave. His hard exterior inspired me to strive harder all the
days of my life. Deep in me, I felt lucky. Lucky that he gave me a chance to
see who he really is. And for that, I am forever grateful. However, I am not
sure if I could handle everything all over again. Not when I am still at my
weakest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span lang="EN-US">Conclusion<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Keri lang. Iyo-yosi ko na lang. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-84928044630637328582012-05-01T16:29:00.000+08:002012-06-28T22:03:38.758+08:00Some of my Life’s WTF Moments<br />
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<a href="http://thecpl.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/dude-wtf2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="http://thecpl.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/dude-wtf2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">B</span>elieve me, this isn’t even half
of all of it. Circumstances aren’t arranged in chronological order. I hereby
solemnly swear that all of the events below are real-life experiences- not a
single fictitious WTF moment was made.<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;"> ·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">B</span>ack in college, I was humiliated in front of
the whole class for not passing my assignment and not wearing proper dress
code. Which by the way, doesn’t imply because my effing university doesn’t have
a dress code. I can wear whatever the f I want. My professor, literally
looked at me from head to foot, and asked me what kind of student I was. <i>If he was really an intelligent,
open-minded person, he would’ve never judged me by the way I dress.</i> He also
told me there’s no reason for me to wear shorts in his presence, in his class.
I told him I was wearing a skirt. A freaking decent pencil cut skirt that’s
just above my knees. My legs just gave them the illusion of being so short. After
that, I knew I was going to have one hell of a semester. And I was right.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>t was my final examination in my World
Literature class and I was already an hour late. The train that was supposed to
take me to school got delayed. The moment it came, I was scared to death to
enter as the passengers were like sardines vacuumed in a can. I calculated the
number of hours if I took another route. It was useless. My only choice was to
wait for the next train and hope to the heavens that my professor would allow
me to take my final test. Once I got to school, forty-five minutes left for my
exam, I ran like crazy up to the sixth floor! Sweating, panting and all- I begged
my professor to death. She finally allowed me. I passed the test! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">A</span>nother college mishap, I had an incomplete
grade on a Math subject that I needed to fix. So I had to stalk this one
professor who unfortunately was a lunatic. I waited for him at my college’s
lobby. When he entered, he saw me approaching him and he instantly walked
faster. So I jogged towards him and asked him how the hell will I fix my grade.
He retorted and told me I should’ve arranged an appointment before I speak to
him. Because he never speaks to anyone without an appointment. Dude! WTF!? Are you the president or
something?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span>t was June and it was obviously the rainy
season. Without any idea, my friend and I thought it was a good idea to wait
for the rain to stop. It definitely wasn’t. The moment we decided to leave and
took a ride on a pedicab, lo and behold! A stream that was once a street
appeared before us. Water was rushing in our “ride” and I swear to god, I would
do anything in my power to not let that disgusting, filthy flood water reach the
insides of my pants. Thankfully, after doing advanced yoga poses inside the
pedicab, only my feet got wet. And then the trike driver charged us forty pesos
each! Eighty peso pedicab ride for just two blocks’ worth of distance! I threw
him 20 bucks and ran off. HAHA. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span style="font-size: x-large;">
</span></span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">I</span> was falling in line at the airport’s check-in
counter at 3 in the morning. I was so excited to leave my huge-ass luggage so
that I’d be able to catch a nap somewhere before the plane arrives. Little did I
know, my ticket wasn’t booked with baggage fees. I had to pay 450 pesos. My
last money was 500. Ouch. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">M</span>y internship supervisor asked me if I know Photoshop. I
thought he was going to let me edit photos for print and stuff like that so I told
him I know the basics. But I didn’t edit photos. I had to make a floor plan
from scratch. And I had to make it on CS5 on an iMac. Geez. Can’t I just use MS
Paint? I was staring at the computer for so long not knowing what to do. Worse,
the creative director was behind me. That moment, I remember wishing for the iMac
screen to suck me into virtual oblivion. In the end, he decided to help me out.
HIHI. :P<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">B</span>efore I went on a trip to the beach, my uncle
demanded that I had to bring a relative in order for him to be assured that I wasn’t
lying and that if ever an “accident” happens to me, he knows whom to contact. So
I took my younger cousin with me for her to meet my uncle and vice versa. When it
was time to take her back to the hotel, our bus got hit by a small truck from
behind. The damage was pretty serious and we got stuck in the express lane for
20 minutes and the exit was 500 metres away. There was no way out. I was
partially traumatized. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-align: justify; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">R</span>ecently, I went parasailing. If you know me,
and I have told you the story or if someone I know told you about it, then you’d
be laughing your ass off right now. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6jtuyaaeV8D29H83QavYMcLhCXPFgBu7o5iXKO3UpXQhelIAVjEQAgf6GGn3cPbnFLfo6ap_SDNSm8OniqK2V4Jq5aX11KE8HdWDlWURaNd9nWqpqkpf-imEcfzMSBrXFbVBtMnmit0/s1600/ua36qnumto5c56fvnqmmc8u0171323425387.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6jtuyaaeV8D29H83QavYMcLhCXPFgBu7o5iXKO3UpXQhelIAVjEQAgf6GGn3cPbnFLfo6ap_SDNSm8OniqK2V4Jq5aX11KE8HdWDlWURaNd9nWqpqkpf-imEcfzMSBrXFbVBtMnmit0/s1600/ua36qnumto5c56fvnqmmc8u0171323425387.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-64133452788750532822012-04-28T15:30:00.001+08:002012-06-28T22:04:05.509+08:00Everybody Loves Flirting So Everybody Should Flirt<br />
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The norm of the sexes just
baffles me sometimes. Until I reached twenty and finally had the liberty to
fully interact with the opposite sex (which isn’t even that active, by the way),
I realized how complicated the rules are. They’re just so many I can’t even grasp
all of them at once. What’s worse is that they’re so much easier said than
done. Literally. It’s so easy to give a friend an advice when they’ve messed up
or they’re plain clueless on what to do with some guy they have the hots for. But
when it happens to you, you instantly become like any other stupid, ignorant
human being that constantly tries to fill in something that doesn’t really even
need filling in.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
And what makes me feel bad about
all of these shenanigans is that I’m the girl in the game. And by being one, I am
a few steps behind. Or I am forced to be, rather. Because of the standard
Filipino tradition that we have carried with us for ages we were accustomed
that men should be the head of the game. They have to be the alpha male,
looking for their prey. And us, we wait. Wait for someone to finally see us as
a target. And not just any kind of waiting I tell you. We have to act discreet
because in some way, it is the “Dalagang Pilipina’s Code of Ethics”. One slip
and we’re labelled as sluts. As low-life, cheap girls who weren’t raised well
by their hardworking, civilised parents. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Don’t get me wrong here. I don’t
mean to put this in a way where I’d sound all thirsty for a guy’s attention. But
I do believe that sometimes I’d rather be making moves myself rather than
waiting like a wallflower until some fly finally decides to land on me. I don’t
want to be the girl who constantly stares at her phone and waits for it to ring
and see that the guy she really likes just texted her. I don’t want to be the
bitch who just got owned.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I mean, just cut all the drama and
the process and get on with it. I find someone as an ideal prospect. If they
like me as well, then good. We’ll enjoy the ride. If they don’t, then whatever.
No big deal. It’s not as if we’re planning to get committed or something.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
If it goes on like this, I think
a lot of tears, tissues and tequilas will be saved. In my opinion, instead of doing it
old school, here are easier options. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Cut it out with the sending of mixed signals. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I don’t get why girls do this! You
know you wanna give it but you’re not really giving it. That’s just BS. If you
like a guy, then go. Just do it smartly. And still keep your guard on.
Sometimes, they’re just as clueless. So, don’t make it two stupid people
senselessly prancing around in continuous loops. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Never jump into conclusions. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Never. Unless someone solidly
states out something. Adjacent to sending out mixed signals, us ladies just
love to conclude. One great date and we envision our wedding day and our new
last name. Seriously. WTF? If you don’t want the hassle of stressing out, just
enjoy the ride. And keep your options open. *wink <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Flirt correspondingly. <o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Know who you’re flirting with. Don’t
just give it all out there and don’t go out of control. There are even times
where you do it unintentionally. Then all of a sudden, a guy gets the wrong
message. That’s just a total headache (take it from me). For some reason you
were doing it just to act nice, now you have to tell it to his face that “dude,
NO”. I have learned my lesson and now I’m aware.s<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Sometimes, you just have to be the one that makes the move.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Guys are sissies sometimes too
and they want attention. So, man up and do it. Smile first. Ask him out first. Text
him first. But if you can handle seeing your guy slip away and get distracted
by competition… it’s your choice. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The media has shaped our minds
stronger now than of the traditions. Though I do not fully agree how people
conform to the media’s mind-tricking ways, I believe that it’s all about
equality. And the fact that it really is lesser drama in reality. I am not
writing this because I’m a girl that’s seeking out for revenge on the douchebags
that leave ladies behind broken and fragile. In fact, I’m helping men out here
too! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Just cut out all the pizaazz and
hullaballoos and have the courage. It’s kinda fun having someone to text from
time to time. Or someone who you can bring along to this stupid thing you have
to go to. It doesn’t have to be serious. Your goal is “FUN”. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
But then for girls out there who
are trying to side with me, bear in mind that the most important thing is your
self-worth. Don’t come out as a hoe for sure as you still deserve the respect. But
then, no one’s stopping you from having a bit of fun and adventure. *wink<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-68356288897462962192012-04-21T16:44:00.002+08:002012-06-28T22:04:26.587+08:00I Am an Island Girl<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOqEgWE9gm_5hu8_jReP_JMZhK5a3-8JBDmTyyOswxeEAZ_hwak4kmgDg4FzHL-yW5KlyAxsyRaB71BBmp4jS9ZSl_ZjisorBu4HCrnYzsIcOqJ_hyphenhyphen5g9MhjJ-S2oYV-UnE9eib-HmZk/s1600/576180_3513236163935_1662862601_2815484_1745355286_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzOqEgWE9gm_5hu8_jReP_JMZhK5a3-8JBDmTyyOswxeEAZ_hwak4kmgDg4FzHL-yW5KlyAxsyRaB71BBmp4jS9ZSl_ZjisorBu4HCrnYzsIcOqJ_hyphenhyphen5g9MhjJ-S2oYV-UnE9eib-HmZk/s320/576180_3513236163935_1662862601_2815484_1745355286_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The rush of the waves is an
instant high. The moment I hear its sound as it hits the shore, I know exactly
I am in someplace I want to be. The sunlight is as perfect as ever. I do not
care if it’s too bright. I don’t give a rat’s ass as the heat lets me sweat
from the specific crevices of my body. It is the beach anyway. I can take a dip
whenever I please.<br />
<a name='more'></a> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The sand effortlessly possesses its
passers-by as millions of fine granules stretch by the majestic coastline like
infinite dreams. The sky, bright, as if the heavens are rejoicing. What more
can someone ask for? It’s a place where I feel free. A place where I am who I
am. My paradise. My island.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
The beauty of the beach is its
sheer laid back ambiance. I am amazed at how island locals live as if the world
can stop for them and not the other way around. It’s as if the island holds
some kind of force that transforms someone into a whole new different person. It
has the power to shed off walls and inhibitions- turn people naked the way they
prefer. Though people can literally prance around almost naked, the island does
more than that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
How often can you enjoy an
invigorating sunrise while you sip a cup of coffee on your hammock? How many
times have you laid carelessly on the sand and stare at the stars for hours? I envy
the islanders. But for a moment I realise, they do not appreciate the place
like I do. For it is their norm rather than their escape. Witnessing something
as such just gives you that instant gratitude. All of a sudden, you are thankful
that you’re alive. And that you are privileged of experiencing such beautiful
creation. Funny what an island does to me. And for some reason, I know the
island does something to the others as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Growing up, I have lived with the
beach. Though unfortunately, I do not know how to swim, the water has taught me
to be brave in a sense that it is harmless. In a sense that it is calm. The shores
have given me hope; that amidst the chaos, there are better things in life and
that the water is always there. We may leave, go to somewhere else that we
think is better, yet it never fails to wait for us. It never fails to renew us
once again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am an island girl. The beach will forever be my refuge. The sun, my source of strength. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjajF25jkyg95t0h7IgY3zvpeUQ1d8YXxQQO49TsrmsiNl2em0apyYIT5gSrrW5AIUnzsg3JLOaBUgEbFf-OMvxwZj3mVvHX40oP4SX3JyBNAr7_RcBMrrXJXYad33KyWpCVb9dCay990/s1600/227961_1060634330422_6384593_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjajF25jkyg95t0h7IgY3zvpeUQ1d8YXxQQO49TsrmsiNl2em0apyYIT5gSrrW5AIUnzsg3JLOaBUgEbFf-OMvxwZj3mVvHX40oP4SX3JyBNAr7_RcBMrrXJXYad33KyWpCVb9dCay990/s400/227961_1060634330422_6384593_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isla Reta, Talicud Island, Davao City</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82FkSjBBWvZz2GFx4LDSk1k71fBDJDYNu6xgCEDm8JqQyLwsKpOJPXoY5NcIyJqOj-MCplLOnLcXesH8AD1XevqTTAbV8mq2Tprs9HCQz_NY0VlwbECLQ5kQcHW-cafvJNt__cHF2osw/s1600/24376_1335436120295_1662862601_773145_4579343_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82FkSjBBWvZz2GFx4LDSk1k71fBDJDYNu6xgCEDm8JqQyLwsKpOJPXoY5NcIyJqOj-MCplLOnLcXesH8AD1XevqTTAbV8mq2Tprs9HCQz_NY0VlwbECLQ5kQcHW-cafvJNt__cHF2osw/s400/24376_1335436120295_1662862601_773145_4579343_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kwebang Lampas, Pagbilao, Quezon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2FGS20cf0WrcUXPyx-K5GCTZhTRkGJZOSeZuPCPqjWRv3hkxF_Rw3xm1TPe2l6y8FRtxe3Mdc1yNEL208n8Btb-Fm1mODCPDn9R7xWzELl2bzWBNrIP24OY90PLnibBgerhLEJ2mwH0/s1600/540474_3513392487843_1662862601_2815664_673717166_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF2FGS20cf0WrcUXPyx-K5GCTZhTRkGJZOSeZuPCPqjWRv3hkxF_Rw3xm1TPe2l6y8FRtxe3Mdc1yNEL208n8Btb-Fm1mODCPDn9R7xWzELl2bzWBNrIP24OY90PLnibBgerhLEJ2mwH0/s400/540474_3513392487843_1662862601_2815664_673717166_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crystal Cove, Boracay, Aklan</td></tr>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com1Philippines12.879721 121.7740174.98013 111.666595 20.779312 131.881439tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-46396899947310646802012-04-10T19:46:00.000+08:002012-06-28T22:04:58.348+08:00Why We Live<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7osMGJGRvLxoUC1VcmfkbPldUpsxbahf-M5VCKm85sNkUXMUswRR6nxuXWuvDwfsn49gtPzIllGSWEFzWvhDBwRqZOmBvGaWbcPRTTsNSue-mxdJIjsej1nQaod_6piUcnStr6zefYU/s1600/547165_401137849899395_100000095515149_1684097_545020416_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS7osMGJGRvLxoUC1VcmfkbPldUpsxbahf-M5VCKm85sNkUXMUswRR6nxuXWuvDwfsn49gtPzIllGSWEFzWvhDBwRqZOmBvGaWbcPRTTsNSue-mxdJIjsej1nQaod_6piUcnStr6zefYU/s400/547165_401137849899395_100000095515149_1684097_545020416_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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No one ever does understand the
complexities of life. We never know. No matter how much we inquire, no matter
how much we seek, it would never be enough. We would still continue to look for
something- even if we already do not know what we’re exactly looking for.<br />
<a name='more'></a> <o:p></o:p><br />
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Sometimes I think we constantly
search for something because that is how we are destined to be. That is how we
are created. We continuously bask in the idea that there is something that is
waiting for us at the end of the road. Or that there is light at the end of
every tunnel. And yes, the fact that it convinces us to pursue is indeed
agreeable. Because no matter how it goes, we always, and I tell you ALWAYS, move
on. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Sometimes we forget- forget that
it’s all about moving on. And it baffles us. Our innards quiver, our minds
displaced. So we run around in circles until somebody heaven sent takes us out
of the loop- some force graciously does so for us to find another way again.
Battered and all, we continue because of the hope that is left in us. Even a
little spark. Or just a tiny flicker. We move on- as we are eager for that tiny
glint to turn into blazing fire.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe we were created this way.
Maybe the gods have favoured our existence to be in this exact form. We use our
precious time to look for the things we think that could make us whole. Are we
that lonely? Are we really that desperate? People search for everything and I
do exactly mean everything everything. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We search for love; we constantly
hope that the right person could be the answer to our prayers. Speaking of
prayers, we search for an existence that is beyond higher above our being; so
that we could believe in something and turn that belief as our sheer
foundation. We search for a living; it defines who we are in life. We search
for attention; we’re all narcissistic and we just want the others to state it
out loud. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have nothing against how we are
created or why we act as such. But at the end of the day, sometimes it makes me
think, are we really that useless? That without these things- these so-called
life necessities- we are nothing. Originally, we are all inadequate and
incompetent that we have to persistently unearth our own beings every now and
then. Is that it? Or are we all vulnerable and covetous that we cannot be at
peace unless we feel that we have surpassed somebody, even ourselves? Is this
the reason for our living? <o:p></o:p></div>
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But then, if we do not put
ourselves into a quest, our life would be useless- for we will never know what
it is like ahead. We will never know the feeling of triumph, of loss, of damage
and of restoration. We will spare ourselves from the amusement of joy and the
wails of pain or sorrow. We will never know. We will never have something to
share. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Ah. The constant queries. The
constant search. Sometimes I think, is life the complex one or are we? <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5PfFlmsGxqU7PpnKN7oy9MBfiE8t37maLaqNIMSLEpPgrs-3Deux_Az9Ey9wQgLHv4w1gJGAKRP-whKX38MDSHuEVQTK6wm_KQdamQ8im6Uu0A4_jpB9mquf2Y9LxPd2OYFxxtvM21w/s1600/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5PfFlmsGxqU7PpnKN7oy9MBfiE8t37maLaqNIMSLEpPgrs-3Deux_Az9Ey9wQgLHv4w1gJGAKRP-whKX38MDSHuEVQTK6wm_KQdamQ8im6Uu0A4_jpB9mquf2Y9LxPd2OYFxxtvM21w/s1600/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="35" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw5PfFlmsGxqU7PpnKN7oy9MBfiE8t37maLaqNIMSLEpPgrs-3Deux_Az9Ey9wQgLHv4w1gJGAKRP-whKX38MDSHuEVQTK6wm_KQdamQ8im6Uu0A4_jpB9mquf2Y9LxPd2OYFxxtvM21w/s200/kpdk5oqt7pmoapumim09ve2u261323594506.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-85859092229690464642012-03-12T12:32:00.001+08:002012-06-28T22:05:15.001+08:00Monday Blues Because I am so EMO<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Yes. Sometimes too much caffeine makes me emo. F*ck caffeine. Oh wait, I love caffeine. Sorry. </i></div>
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Reality hits you hard. Straight to your guts and then right through your brains. You feel that pang. That haunting voice and eerie shudder. But you have no choice. You have to fight it. And then, you have to beat it. Fast. Fast and straight. Because if you don’t, it takes you down to your knees. And when it’s not contented, it takes you flat on your face.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And you have nowhere to go. You wish you’d be one with the ground you’ve been planted on. But even the soil wouldn’t accept you. Because you have only one thing to do. Stand up- limp and all. You heal yourself. You comfort yourself. Because no matter how you search for others to look out for you, you end up looking after yourself.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Reality is a bitch. No matter how hard you try to forget about it, escape its snare, it meets you right when you’re about to fall through. And it hits you back again. Harder than before. Because you’re stupid enough to let it hit you the second time around. And the third time. And the fourth. You have no escape really. Your only escape is to go through. Survive all the odds. Beat all the offences and defend yourself. For the love of God, defend yourself. Keep yourself whole. No matter how shattered you feel, keep yourself whole. <o:p></o:p></div>
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And don’t you dare seek your own wholeness on the remnants of the others. Because the truth is, they have nothing to give you as they are shattered themselves. Searching for their own wholeness and hoping that they could find it in someone else. Maybe in you. In reality, we all have nothing to give each other. But we are always looking for something to have. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In the end, we are left disappointed. Hopeless. Broken. And then… just when we’re recovering. Just when we feel so strong and happy once again. We forget what we’ve been through and do it all over again. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/IuGO6WHcruU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-73532628876113283392012-03-06T13:19:00.003+08:002012-06-28T22:05:37.766+08:00The Epilogue on What Happens When You Don’t Know What’s Next<div style="text-align: justify;">
A dozen mosquito bites, an uneven tan and muddy shoes- these have been my new signs of a successful adventure. I’m surprised that I haven’t acquired dengue or malaria out of this trip. But it doesn’t matter. Even if I had I wouldn’t regret it once I survive. Mosquitoes are part of nature anyway. And this trip, by all means, was nature.</div>
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Looking at my right arm as I’ve counted eight swells from the bites so far, I perfectly remember the words from the man who welcomed us warmly in his humble abode that seemed like it has sprouted naturally from nowhere. It weren’t deep words really. But they were wise. Basically, what it meant was “get used to it”.<br />
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It was around nine in the evening as my roommates and I were huddled inside a spacious hut. It was the guest house in a place that was referred to as Papelan- because the owner was a paper maker. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInTeX2agSExqmiGRULubItwxbuQ_GDEjxoDkoLyjLRjc7YLR6Btx0m3JroMXPEZA3twc2kNgxPTWLwh5N_AqkncJJu7pjxgSiRMSm9ml6FxGRF-BiXp_Vi1g_CQptJST-d-ChUaKIgqA/s1600/DSCN1691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInTeX2agSExqmiGRULubItwxbuQ_GDEjxoDkoLyjLRjc7YLR6Btx0m3JroMXPEZA3twc2kNgxPTWLwh5N_AqkncJJu7pjxgSiRMSm9ml6FxGRF-BiXp_Vi1g_CQptJST-d-ChUaKIgqA/s400/DSCN1691.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Let me tell you about the place first as the fact that it exists simply awes me. I love that it was only known as Papelan as if there isn’t really an official name and locals just got used to it. I had no idea where we were going as from the highway we entered an underdeveloped large subdivision. We were on convoy and as our van turned a series of lefts and rights, I realised we already were on the outskirts of the place.</div>
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The cemented road was replaced with soil and the houses in divided lots were gone as tall grasses took over the place. It felt like there was a portal somewhere that had just enabled us to enter a whole new dimension. All of a sudden it felt like a different place. A different era. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The walls were made of thick handmade paper that were plastered on screens and were held up by thin bamboo poles for support. It was the typical bahay kubo. Except its roof wasn’t made of nipa. And by being ignorant, sensitive creatures from the city, we feared the fact that there weren’t any window screens. It was as if we were welcoming all the insects for a night of a bloodsucking escapade.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Thank God for insect repellent, I thought. But at the moment I didn’t have any. None of us had any. As disrespectful as it may seem, we were hesitant to ask the owner if we could buy a bottle or so outside. It was stupid of us really- at nine in the evening, in what looks like the middle of nowhere, we were looking for insect repellent. I figured what the hell. Let the mosquitoes devour my blood. It’s not as if I’m going to die. Well, technically, I can die because of it. But it was a lesser priority at that time as I was busy handling more serious matters- which were the frogs and the geckos roaming all over the place. Eeeck.</div>
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So there I was, accepting the fact that I was going to sleep in a hut for the first time. The cool breeze was the only air conditioning system. The bamboo floor was my bed. It wasn’t such a big deal to me actually. As long as it is clean and safe, I’m fine. I am up for anything- except nothing foreign, slimy, and scaly has to touch my skin while I sleep. And thank God nothing did.<br />
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Just as we were discussing our sleeping arrangements, all of a sudden somebody braved to ask the owner. <o:p></o:p></div>
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“Excuse me sir, do you have insect repellent?”<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>Oh no. Oh no. </i>I was already anxious in my head. I wanted to scream “don’t you get it?!” but of course I remained silent- like most of the times I’m ever caught with awkward situations. Obviously, the owner doesn’t use insect repellent. For living in a place like this for a long time, the insects must be his friends. And being the outsiders that we are, we’re the “treats”. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The owner replied wittily and politely- thank heavens. He had this jovial, wise aura and had a different outlook on a lot of things. I figured because he was an artist- a free spirit. One of the most interesting human beings I have ever crossed paths with. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Crickets chirping about along the humming breeze, I began to deeply evaluate the area. This wasn’t in the itinerary. Nobody knew we were going here. All we know was that we had to do a last stop over to shoot a great view of the sunset. <o:p></o:p></div>
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At first I was hesitant. Scared. Unsure. But then I felt calm and contented that it was almost strange. I have never been contented at anything not even for a moment. I was always looking forward onto something, envisioning millions of things that could possibly happen. But then, for a fraction of a second, something hit me. It was exactly what I needed. And the place, the so-called Papelan, became clear to me. It felt like a temporary escape. And all I had to do was accept what’s in front of me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The owner told me that there was a huge camp out that happened a couple of weeks ago. There were around 200 people who went to celebrate Bob Marley’s birthday. I have no idea how 200 people were able to fit in but based from his story, it was beyond awesome. People came in from different places, some even from up north, and brought just sleeping bags and tents. Different localities and foreign visitors jammed as one to Marley’s music. They just went. And had a good time, definitely. And I envied them for I realised I never did such a thing. Never in my life have I just gone and see what happens. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Was it because I’m still young? Well, I am getting older and one of these days, young would be just a part of my memory. Was it because I was scared? Maybe. I was scared of the unknown. But moreover, I would be more frightened of the regrets I will have in the future if I didn’t go. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The place was perfect all of a sudden. I disregarded that it was inhabited by my “reptile friends”. Everything was different. And I loved that nothing was familiar. Not a single aspect was the same from where I came from and what I’m used to. And then I asked myself hypothetically, “How long will I be able to live in this place?” I gave myself a month. Shame. <o:p></o:p></div>
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This surprise was truly a good way to end my last trip. For five days of having the opportunity of being able to try something new, I learned to accept the things that happen as they are. And that sometimes, it wouldn’t hurt if you don’t know what’s going to happen next. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Until my next journey, this has been an unusual trip. And I’m more than glad that I had the guts to go. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com2Tiaong, Philippines13.9536111 121.3161110999999413.8769666 121.24744659999995 14.0302556 121.38477559999994tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-87203508794016399132011-12-11T15:24:00.001+08:002012-06-28T22:06:18.996+08:00The Wish List Plague<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Christmas is just a few days away but then in the Philippines, this festive season usually begins the moment the first of September arrives. Ber-months as what it’s called, usually is the time when:</span></div>
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<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>The air gets cooler which I really love,</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Night lights seem brighter,</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Fashion trends change which I really love as well but find it a little too overdone at times (I mean, come on it’s the Philippines! Wearing a fur jacket and boots at 30° Celsius is unacceptable man, downright unacceptable! Not to mention that bloody scarf!),</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Food gets “unhealthier” and of course, yummier ;),<a name='more'></a></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Traffic gets worse and when I mean worse it’s not from good to moderate but worst to <i>worstesest</i>,</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>People are bragging, announcing and complaining about Christmas shopping and why it’s so stressful, why it’s so joyful and why it’s so heart-warming and money-slashing all at the same time,</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>Everyone’s kinder all of a sudden like giving money to beggars on Yuletide season is such a “noble-act-you-deserve-an-award” thing to do and last but not the least,</li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span>These annoying Wall photos, Facebook albums, lists, Tumblr posts and the likes about Christmas wishes go on the Internet like crazy!</li>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://mygutinstinct.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/wish-list.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="189" src="http://mygutinstinct.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/wish-list.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://joshuambernstein.com/2011/12/01/a-wish-list-for-the-craft-beer-industry/">Source</a></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Among all of the common things that are done during this oh-so-jolly, festive time of the year, the last statement is probably the most I’m irked on. The Wish List Plague, as what I like to refer it, should be banned, marked as SPAM, blocked, thrown into the pits of virtual hell and syphoned into the Web’s simulated black hole. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">It’s not that I despise wish lists. In fact, I find it very useful especially when you know someone who is branded as the “last person you want to pick your name on Kris Kringle” or "the winner of the worst and weirdest gift giver award". This wish list might save you from receiving the oddest, most useless and most generic gifts like face towels or photo albums or mugs. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t you dare tell me that it’s the thought that counts because if someone so dear to me gave me face towels, my impression would be, he/she just went in the department store and grabbed a box of towels on the nearest shelf with a label that says' Christmas gift ideas and bam! Pays for it, wraps it and gives it to me as a “present”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">What annoys me about wish lists nowadays is because of the boom of the online era that this “sharing act” goes on to a whole new level. Seriously, do you really have to make an album with all the things you want to receive by Christmas Eve? And worse, you tag random people out of your friends list just so somebody would comment on your photos to make you look less of a loser in the virtual world. Because hey, it seems like the more likes and comments you get, it proves something about who you really are. Wish lists in my opinion should be:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Private. </b>Choose the people whom you want to show it to. Preferably the ones who are willing to give you the things you are asking for. Would your second grade classmate from fifteen years ago care if you want a freaking maxi skirt from Forever21? No. I don’t think so.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Realistic. </b>There’s a fine line between mockery and just making <i>papansin</i> online. You can say I want a Rolls-Royce for Christmas which is obviously an act of ridicule and we both know that it’s never going to happen. But I see posts like *I want a Canon EOS howshabouta with all the types of lenses even though I don’t know a fuck about professional photography and I just want to look cool*. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">We all know for a fact that it costs more than a hundred grand. Unless you’re parents/uncles/aunts/grandparents/lover/husband are the shit then you don’t have to share it on the Internet because they’ll know for sure that it’s really what you want and they’d give it to you eventually. But to share it on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Wordpress, Blogger, Youtube etc. and to all those random people in your list, I’m thinking… what is going on with this person asking for such an expensive gift!? Go buy it yourself, dude! </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Not overly done. </b>You know these kinds of people who share every friggin minute of their lives on the Internet- “OMG I’m drunk!” “OMG! I puked!” “OMG! I drunk called my ex!” “OMG! I am about to pass out!”- well pass out already so you don’t have to post another status anymore! It’s the same as posting what you want for Christmas. It’s like sharing to the world that you’re wrapping Christmas presents as of the moment. Who the hell cares if you’re wrapping presents!? Unless, there’s something in there for me of course ;).</span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">Amidst this rant, I’d still want everybody to get what they want in life this season because in a sense, the more happy people there are, the lesser the sorrow is (I don’t think I made any sense. Haha). But then I still think that there is more to having presents during Christmas. (and yes, I'm not just saying that because I can't afford Christmas shopping :p) Don’t let these material things overshadow your enthusiasm on what this season is about. Share the love and spread the joy. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;">And before I go, here's a couple of Youtube videos that somehow amused/touched me that's related to this warm season. :) </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I love Nigahiga and Ryan's opinion on things, especially Christmas Spirit. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Though this video is funny, it just touched me. These men and women sacrificed their time with their families in service of their countries. And It's heartwarming to know that they'll be going home for Christmas. </span></span></div>
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</span></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15253395303862481068noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5692828171914487244.post-16144619282350987032011-12-09T18:13:00.000+08:002011-12-11T17:10:08.636+08:00It's OH-PEE-SHALLBefore the year ends, I am now an official member of the "bloggers-who-doesn't-know-if-people-would-really-care-about-their-write ups-but-anyway-they-just-write-the-heck-they-want-to" club. But I'm not going to be a hypocrite and say that I don't care if people read my blogs or not. Of course I want YOU to read my blogs! And when you like them, I would go the extra mile to thank you and realize that "hey, there's this weird person with a twisted point of view that thinks like me too!" and for some reason, I would feel less alone. (yes, I don't have any friends.) Kidding of course. I'm quite popular. In fact, FAMOUS! (not really. well... not at all)<br />
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But anyway, even though I've seen a bunch of blogs that I do not even read myself, I'm still not that familiar with this kind of industry- where everything goes online and that this is the real life now since going outside, being with actual people and smelling the outdoor air would be the things that are going to less likely happen nowadays... sometimes I still don't get this stuff. But then it's an irony that I'm typing right now instead of doing something outdoors. Well then please excuse me because it's raining outside! And I'm not just that making that up, yeah?<br />
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So there... I'm creating this blog so that I would have an outlet where my mind could speak on its own. Besides writing these nonsense statuses on Facebook (which I find overrated now that people are abusing its "sharing" features), I want a place where I could share (and not YAP, take note) of how I see the world. I don't want a site where I share *boast* what I wear, where I've been, what food I've eaten yadi yadi yah... I just want to write so that in a sense, I could be free from my thoughts and that you could have something to read whenever you don't know what to do with the Internet and some Force has brought you to the weird parts of the Web... just like this one. <br />
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So there, this is me signing off for now (pic down below) and I just hope this blog gets me somewhere and that by 2012, my life and my mind would be interesting enough to come up with posts that aren't too shallow and mundane. I do hope you have a very Merry Christmas *forget the diet and all that shit and just share the love* and a Happy New Year in advance!<br />
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