Nostalgic Comforts

I love how old movies, stories, and even new movies that makes us recall of the past seems to comfort (at least me) even at the midst of a world of turmoil and suffering(ooh dramatic). First off, i watched The Little Mermaid over two weekends now and it still continues to ease and take away the stress of school temporarily. Of course the comfort was bittersweet as i am a sentimental person. Sure it has the canon of infectious disney songs such as "under the sea" and "part of your world," but as i am engaged happily at the movie, concurrently it also summons memory of the past that i felt i could never go back to again. One might only guess that 17 years or for me 15 years (i think i first watched it when i was 3 or 4) had passed since it came out, and that made me the more sad. How irony curse my life. Then there's Sherlock Holmes. I finally have read something that is out-of-school context. I first happened upon doyle's famous inspector when i was 11 in my elementary school library (learning [resource] center as the school call it), and i remembered sadly i only remembered the title ("the sign of four") and the minor detail that there was a dog that can sniff out some chemical, but i could not recall what the story was about or who the villain was. Sherlock Holmes had two effects on me. The first one is that i wanted to become a detective myself because it is intriguing. The second one and perhaps also enforced by other things (rick blaine in casablanca, and 8 man after) was i think that trench coats are fashionable. I used to pretend an oversized parka as my trench coat when i was young (pathetic). Then the new movie i saw entitled "Little Manhattan." Although i could pass as a cheeseball for saying this, i love the movie. It reminisces on the good old days of boyhood and first "love." How I remembered mine. But the most important fact that this movie asserted, although it might slight girls and no offense, is: "boys mature faster than girls." So these were the pieces i that carried me through the week. I am hoping to buy another book (Ashenden Or: The British Agent) that also has a place in one of my heart's sentimental offices. It is similar to Sherlock Holmes, but Ashenden is a spy (another occupation i fancied) WWI. I discovered him when i was 11 also introduced to me through my school library. Ah, sentiment--i love it--especially in times of stress.

On Turning Eighteen

Love this poem; i think it matches how i felt when i turned 18; had some minor adjustments though...third line: actually mine is more appropriate making it an iambic pentameter as sonnets are sometimes restricted to...

On His Being Arrived to the Age of Twenty-three [Eighteen]

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stolen on his wing my three [eight] and twentieth [tenth] year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits indu'th.

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven.
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Task-master's eye.

--John Milton

Regarding Survivor's Definition of Race

althoughI like their idea of doing this, race is not the completely appropriate term that they used to divide the tribes (i.e. asians, blacks, caucasians, and hispanic). it would have been proper for the three (asians, whites, and blacks), but hispanic is not a race!!!...so what is hispanic?..."it pertains to the culture of latin america and sometimes spain is included" people from latin america could be classified as black (slaves brought by europeans), white (europeans of mostly pure spanish descents), native americans, or a combination of white, black, and/or native american...when will this ignorance and pollution of young minds stop?

History70 Assignment

Who says William Hung is the Father of all Delusionists? For those who are not in the know, let me break the real score; it’s not him. Although I hate to admit that he’s also an Asian and he hails from the land of baldheads who don orange gowns and has an Angelina Jolie as a sympathizer. People, meet Polpot, the greatest delusionist of all.

I can’t imagine anyone who is in his right mind to do the things he did with Cambodia. He’s such a nationalist that it already surpassed the extreme level and went to a delusional stage. Poor guy. Is that the effect of his funny name? Honestly, I admire his great strength and his vision for his country but that vision is something unattainable. Period. And the fact that he did not budge when everything started to fall into pieces is also commendable. But all the gore and violence that would put any Quentin Tarantino flick to shame is something I despised a lot. Hey, I’ve never been a fan of gory films. And after watching his biography, I feel so lucky that I’m not a Cambodian.

In the eastern part of Cambodia, from the land that gave US its undeniable shame in terms of warfare, comes a man worthy of being called; the Desperado aka Ho Chi Minh. He’s so desperate to liberate his country by hook or by crook, even at the cost of having communism. Top that, Rizal! Well, maybe, his means was less than stellar but we can’t deny that man’s love for country. And this time, it’s more or less normal.

Though the installment of communism raised brow’s all over, at least Vietnam got the freedom it longed to have- besides, communism is not entirely evil. In all depends on the handling of things. Criticism aside, who has a city under his name anyway?

Maya

I could not forget that day when someone came up to me and Maya and asked if we were best friends (-i recall I we were ib first year high school then, and we were in a noisy classroom). I guess being denied by someone you thought had mutual affection for you is just difficult to forget. "Dili oi, close friends lang mi" [Hindi ah, close friends lang kami] she said with seriousness, but of clear innocence that her words hit me right in the forehead --yet hurt my heart the most.
So, I had to live with it. She was my best friend, but I wasn’t hers.
After a year, we had a big fight –our first fight. It was when we had a group presentation at school, and she and my other classmates left me alone onstage when it was time for the teacher to ask questions. Because my crush was watching, I felt extra nervous and high strung. I blamed my group mates for everything (including, secretly, my embarrassment in front of my crush), forgetting that I really should’ve prepared for the questioning, since I was the group leader.
I was mad at all my group mates, but my fury over Maya was especially intense, though I didn’t know exactly why. I could only guess that it was my jealousy over her own best friend and my frustrations that went with it, taking toll, for I have hidden it well over time. Maybe I wasn’t really mad at her for leaving me alone up there, unable to respond to the teacher. Maybe I just found it as a chance to finally get mad at her, for a valid reason --A valid reason, unlike jealousy.

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beeEp...beeEp! it goes,
then A smile on my face;
a renewal of energy.
Though ironically
another emotional maze;
more jovial days
though to him this meant little,
maybe nothing at all.

But it goes on...

cardiac muscle ecstatic;
next, an overflowing chill
and then he would appear
as my thoughts absorb me.
His hair, those sarcastic eyebrows;
i'm loosing consciousness now
of all else around;
chinito eyes that are serious,
i seem reduced;
piercing fierce glare,
I'm melting by a stare.
His facial contours;
that rugged, cool walk,
no need for talk;
He's...
so...
sigh..!
keeps me high.

And then I wake up.
Daydream's over,
because the others--
they're already staring.
What a waste of time.
...If only you were mine.
Stupid daydream!

"mara, clara"

the other night, i skipped dinner, and so woke up really hungry the next morning. it was because i had to do the homework of my landlady's kid. a few weeks ago, i found my rice cooker on the fritz, and was really dissaponted because i myself barely got to use it. my landlady's mother had worn it out! still, a few months ago, i found my non-stick frying pan, which i loved so much, in an awful state of rusting. it was completely useless, and had to go with the trash. i just can'nt believe this. i've been living in that boarding house for a year now, and the people there have been abusing me since.
here's more. my land lady, named tetet, has been borrowing money from me like i had lots of it. i'm willing to help her, and lend cash, but i only think it's unfair that she never seems to remember paying me back. i'd always have to remind her --which i did-- and still get my money back only after a couple more weeks. her mother, named tessie, whose personality you wouldn't say agreeable, always buzzed around the boarding house like she owned it. once, i went home to sulan kudarat for the semestral break. when i got back, my electric fan was missing, and later the maid told me that tessie took it o her house in sandawa. i'm still angered by the memory of it, though i got my fan back in room now. and what makes me most anxious, is that they have benefited from me and my stuff --ofen wihout my consent-- and still they spoke ill of me behind my back. they've been telling the maid (and God knows whoelse) that i was selfish, and was abusive. in pure honesty, they were kind of describing thmselves!
this is totally unfair. it kind of reminds me of that soap "Mara, Clara" that juddy anne "juday" santos did. oh, how i hated the villiany of clara, who never seemd to get enough of seeing Mara suffer. and how i hated Mara too, for just whimpering around whenever clara did her wrong. so unbelievable how patient and forgiving mara was, it annoyed me.
sometimes, i just couldn't contain my rage when i'm reminded of tessie and tetet's partership in crime, and having me for a victim. but a lot of times, i blame myself too. i know that they are the kontrabidas (villians) of ruthless evil in my telesrye-like life in the boarding house. but i have also been the weak and ever passive Mara. which tells me, that it was part my fault why i have been abused to this extent. maybe they wouldn't have gone that far if i had been strong enough to resist their requests they've professionally disguised with friendliness. as much as i disliked the unrealisticly "good character" played by juday, i will get up on my knees, and defend my rights. i should let it be known to them tat i'm no sissy, and that i'm not ready to get my dignity stepped on.
though she had been spineless in the beginning, mara got to her senses in the end part of te story, and she finall fought back. i remember that episode i loved so much, that when mara spewed sraight to clara's face wet laundry. the villian's face ended up soaked and soapy. though it didn't totally stop her from being evil, at least it told her to back off a little. I guess i'm gonna do that to. But of course not literally! (It's really tempting, though.)

Sunny?

In a land, according to Jehna Paigan, of endless fiestas and falling papayas a new kind of festival has unfortunately fell in the restless lives of modern teenagers causing them behavioral changes grown-ups couldn’t quite comprehend. It aint one of those street-dancing, colorful costumes leading to pick-pocketing scenarios (because those rock- if you don’t lose your phone, that is) . This festival was six weeks loooong, brings you back to school, and forcefully makes everyone feel as if it were a normal semester; scratch that, abnormal semester where everything is done is done in a jiffy. Everyone, I’d like to introduce, the students’ most hated festival: SUCKFEST!: summer of ’06.
Had I known that going to college would mean losing my summer slothing privileges, I shouldn’t have gone to school at all. Kidding. That’s a bit of an exaggeration but trust me, all average teenagers could empathize. Anyone who objects, will suffer from a life of misery and abstinence.
As far as I can remember, summer for me meant no school, no teachers, and no homeworks and is synonymous to “going somewhere else” or even just my ever fave hobby: “slothing around”. It is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be like a sun-shiny, laid back summer flick movie kind of thing- NOT dreadfully whimpy and tearjerker, wanna-be-an-Oscar winner kind of fiasco. It should be about the sun, the heat, he fun, the halo-halo, the shedding off of clothes, the sex (Ok, that’s too much) and no the hurricane of gazillions of anatomical terms and mathematical graphs I couldn’t ’care less about.
After almost 3 months since the last official summer heat graced these islands, I find myself having a craving- NO, more like an obsession of summer. If there are any chances of wearing flip-flops, I grab the oppurtunity. Too bad school requires closed black leather shoes. The indignity of it all! I sunbathe almost every weekend eventhough I have this weird feeling the weather isn’t always on my side because everytime I’m surrendering my body to the sun, clouds always hang over me. Such a green-eyed monster! And, well, I got this, more like raided, our store last weekend for some summer get-ups. I thought those were the coolest no until that tie-dyed shirt ended up dying everything. Spoiler!
Anyway, aside from my eternal Alanis Morisette worship, I’m thinking of starting a cult brotherhood called Soliantu: sacred allegiance of the sun and fire. Yo, I think I’m going nuts. Where the hell is my sun?

Poem: no title yet

Hello, since this blog has become dormant, I hope this wakes it up a bit...this time i'm not whining...lol...i dedicate this to my travel shows...

I find myself in an ethereal land
At where Europa’s mighty bull ride’s end
Afoot the Mediterranean sand;
Up to the peak of Jungfrau, I ascend

With the maiden as my towering post
From afar, I can see Thera’s twilight
Beholding early night’s beauty utmost
Just in time for Norway’s sun at midnight

While the sun never set nor rise, it did;
Scorching my unfeigned abode when I wake
For night to come, I relentlessly bid
The dim enigma, I shall gaze for my sake

Though I am under the Pilgrim’s sky
Looking at Taygete, I still fly

--Farleigh Driscoll

waiting

Waiting. I've always hated it. Too bad I have always, and always will have to do a lot of it. I have no choice. It's part of just being in this world.
When I go out with friends, I wait for them at the mall or wherever our meeting place is. When I run out of extra load and therefore could not make a call, I'd have to wait long minutes for the reply to my urgent text message. At school, they give out priority number cards for transctions at the cashier windows, but still the nubmers advance ever so slowly. It's too much waiting for me to stand. It's just frustrating that I can't escape going through these scenes now and then, routinely even.
Recently, being the lucky person i am, something just had to happen and now I'm gong through another waiting episode. It all began the last time I went out with someone. But don't mistake it for a lousy, tardy date that i had to wait again, because it was great. The problem is, that I think I have fallen in love with that someone, but hadn't heard from him since, and now I'm hanging. Waiting.
Unlike my other waiting episodes, which are obviously much simpler, and so childish of me to even write about, this one has a shade of seriousness. It's driving me crazy. Not that the others aren't, but at least with them i could find a way out. For example, if I couldn't stand the long wait for my priority number to be called to the cashier, i could just leave and procrastinate until it's almost too late for me to get my exam permit. Or, if I feel I'm developing enlarged varicose veins already because of te long qeue behind the ATM, i also could instantly leave, and look for another ATM. And, if I get so impatient getting to somewhere, I could give up trying to save money, and just hail a taxi instead of taking the long ride on a jeep. Easy. But not this other one.
Waiting for signs, or a closure of something is difficult. Now, I'm even being pathetic. Others might think that, because nothing even happened, yet I'm this caught up with "everything". It was just a date. Actually, a "freindly treat", as he said it. But I tell you, it felt different. I don't know, maybe because I knew I liked him so much even before he asked me out... Or is it because of the way he looked into my eyes, and spoke to me while the romantic ambiance of a dim lit cafe was all around, and held my hand, and asked "do you believe that some things are better expressed through actions than said?". He said those words in a way that they wouldn't come off of my memory, that usually failed me by the way. Well now's the time I wish it did, so that I would be able to go on, not lingering on memories of that night any longer, not waiting anymore.
I could be a really impatient companion, commuter, or payer. But over the past few days, I've decided I'd be willing to wait behind an NSO or LTO que, if that would mean I'll be over this feeling. There's nothing more disturbing than waking up in the morning and wondering as you realise that the first thing on your mind is a guy and a myriad of questions. And not to mention that scene reverberating in your thoughts during physics class. Right now, all I want is a closure. I feel hilarious, and even more that everyone thinks I'm overreacting for saying that. But waht can I say? I really hate waiting.

mutant x

What is up with this Filipino obsesion woth all things mestizo and mestiza? Its about time we put an end to this fad. I must admit, most of them look good, if not, weird, as if they were given the best of the best pairs of chromosomes but the Filipino reaction towards this mutant creatures is just way too much that we are already putting then in a position wherein they can play as gods and us, as mere nonentities waiting to be ruled upon. People in the Philippines, i want to remind you that these creatures we go gaga over are also humans (gasp!)... That means, they also fart and pick their noses. They do normal things we normal people do.
Were so stricken by this all-things-half-are-superior mentality that I even had a classmate who claimed she was of Spanish lineage when her looks didn't even show hints of Latin blood. How D-list! These mutants have invaded everything from the local campus crush up to a wider scope through the boob tube. Not that I have anything against it but I hate the fact that some of these creatures are so air-filled that they think they something huge to be worshipped! Others even came to the point that wherein they feel they are pretty and others are just NOT.
Advertisers even made the Filipino public dumb by having all these mestiza portraying as Filipinos. The latest addition to this "oddvertisement" is the whitening through peeling product modeled by an obvious mestiza (Duh. The accent shows.). I don't think the viewing public knows there is 0 chance that shes going to use that product because, being half, she already had white skin since the day she was born.
When will this end? because I so not need delusionists who think they're half.

Black Eyed Peas Honda Civic Tour Concer at Fairfield, CT (April 26)

Woohoo!!!The BEP here in Connecticut!!! Plus PCD opening for them.
Although there were some setbacks. There were no chairs and me and standing are just not close; my feet were killing me by the end. Secondly, I am not gifted in the height department, but white people are so basically I had to jump or stand in my toes to see Nicole and the BEP...booo!!! No cameras allowed, DOUBLE BOO!!! Then, there were drunken bitchy and loud college white girls...

The concert started at 7:30 and the first opening was done by flipsyde(no idea who are they)...then a ten minute wait for the other opening by the PCD...then another ten minute break, then PCD again...Nicole btw was hot...although i only get a glimpse of her once in a while (courtesy of inconsiderate tall people and raunchy dancing and elbow-hitting girls), but still NICE DANCING from PCD...then another 10 minute wait...

THEN finally BEP...they did about 15-20 or so songs...fergy btw, saw your abs...ahahhaha...best 2 hours of my life...

Even though I was bothered by my bladder and feet I enjoyed myself, no regrets, the delight outweighed the sufferings--PCD and BEP at the same night yeaahhhh...But remind me never to get a concert in Sacred Heart University anymore...

love from babyteeth, horse, calf, pony, bunnyears, queen amygdala, ..whatever.!

oh waht dark skins we had.
as well as what obvious bruises
and long-lasting body pains we had.

but despite the nega stuff the
community service had to offer,
everything went down to one memorable
event--NSTP graduation.
it was special, for it wasn't just a
march on stage to shake hands with the people
who made our lives in the target site
miserable, and recieve this piece
of paper glorified with some person's signature,
but most inportantly it marked the day
when all our troubles ended. no more super
long lectures at the audi, with chairs
insufficient for the huge number of students
we were, no more exhausting hikes down to
and up from the amphi theatre by way of the
steep saitrs, no more hot days under the sun
only to burn our supple --or we wished supple--skin
(sayang ang bio link!),
and no more yells from
our dangerous, yet surprisingly lovable
coordinator, miss nayal.
indeed, we have graduated.

apart from the happy emotion we all have because
of our triumph over the arduous days of NSTP1 and 2,
my jolly laughter covers a shade of loneliness.
not everyone knows, or cares, but i am in fact, going
enroll myself to another school by May. and i'm never
going back to brokenshire college. it's just sad.
i'm not so sure why i feel bad about leaving these guys
i've known for only about a year now, but i just do.
somehow during that one year i've developed the thought
that that time the togetherness was for good, that
they were to be with me until i graduate, and beyond.
such a great thought! but it turned out
too great to be true. now i am facing a new dilemma, of
how i'm going to act around the new people i will have
or hope to interact with for the next semesters of my college
life. i could only wish for their kindness amd hospitality.
i keep hoping for everything to be okay. hey, the students of
DDC aren't really scarily hostile as my senteces imply. I'm just
that sad to be suddenly pulled away from the environment i've been
used to for a year now.
to all BC BSN1E batch '05-'06, thank you very much.
the moments i shared with you are well fitted in my
memory. especially our NSTP moments of cruelly hot hours under the
mad sun, around the children in the target site, around the hills
stinkin' of garbage, and most unforgettably around that whole
community of dead people (know what i mean).
so, dear classmates, er, dear former classmates, i say goodbye.
but it doesn't have to mean forever does it? keep in touch, ya'll.

by the way, i don't use bio link. someone from the class
just always mentions that. but i don't think she'd like to have
credit for pioneering it, so i might as well shut up.

Quatrains of Nova Anglia

Got inspired 2 days ago...

Quatrains of Nova Anglia

Frost begins its death.
Once more, life is borne.
New buds and petals
Welcome fair Kore

Forestland of green,
Fresh with no blemish
Idle the time for
Pride to rush in me.

Fruits and grain ripen,
Gather the bounty,
Then marvel at the
Sea of red maples.

In the frigid times,
Beasts still endure so
For thou are not cold
As the ancient one.

--Farleigh Driscoll (nom de plume of Roshan Espinosa)

FOR AI BOOT: Pickler or Young

Missing the current american idol show, i am still obstinate about getting either Kellie Pickler or Ace Young out of the contest. I may have some biases, but who doesn't. So here are my analyses and ladies first:

Kellie Pickler alias Paris Hilton + Jessica Simpson
BIAS REASONS FOR BOOT: FYI there's already a country singer named Carrie Underwood who possesses more sensibility than you and a vocal range that you dream you had. The ditzy blonde act is getting annoying so drop it.
REASONS FOR KEEPING: Fan base probably much of dixieland. Sympathy votes for her past. Perkiness. blonde bombshell effect.

Ace Young alias Constantine Maroulis
BIAS REASONS FOR BOOT: personally hate his dumb-stare-into-space. He can't pick songs that are good for him. Uses his looks and body (i.e. his scar) to get votes, how stupid is that; i'm anticipating what body part will he be using to get votes (let's just hope it's rated G).
REASONS FOR KEEPING: looks, some people think the dumb stare is actually appealing. fan base (questionable). gets dissed by the judges but then contradictorily they say he will stay because of his fans.

PS: My votes are for Chris Daughtry and Katharine McPhee (make st. patty proud; if you're indeed irish). Also some props to Bucky Covington.

there's something missing

i don't know if i'm just exaggerating all
the stuff that's been happenig to me lately,
but i really feel so empty and senseless
sometimes.
more often than not, i get myself into thinking
that something is actually missing in my life.
or is it someone?
i will be 18 this year. but my parents treat me
like a two-year old. they kept on reminding me
the things have to do, the things i should not
do, the things i should encourage in my life, the
things i should avoid, and stuff like that.
of course, what i really mean is that they're
so strict when it comes to boys.
i guess they just don't want me to get hurt, or
ruin the plans of a wonderful future for me.
but someties, i could oly wish they'd become a little
more lenient concerning that part of my youth.
i'm not saying i want to be totally liberated from
their guiding. all i really want is
some sort of peek-through, to enable me to see what's
on the other side of the fence.

getting over the drug habit

Well, what do you know? Its almost, uhm, quite a long time since you've disappeared from my system without even a word. You could have given me a notice but instead, you left me and made me feel cheated and constantly thinking I was just used.
I wish I knew how to quit you because if I did, I wouldn't have to deal with the withdrawal symptoms. I had a hard time moving on. I wish you knew what I went through, of how my life went down the drain and hit bedrock. How stupid was I to let you use me? I knew what you were about to do but I still let you do it. I could have stopped you but I but I just could not because you felt good. Damn, sugar. It felt good.
You're like Crystal Parizanski. You were a joke but I still adored you. On second thought, you're more like Survivor Thailand. You were gloomy. There's nothing more depressve as you. You were a tropical depression on my oceanus pacificus. I still can't believe (even though I despise Justin's songs) I cried a river for you. See, you even made me mushy all over!
Some Scandinavian chick came but too bad It didn't turn out good. I could have someone to replace you but I just couldn't. The Cranberries sang "Why did you have to let it linger?" just for me. But even though you may have a special place in my heart, I think I have gotten over you. I'm so sorry, but it seems like your intoxicating properties just won't work this time.