Stargazing, hopes and dreams

When I was young the streets that run through our neighborhood is rough. Dusts everywhere. Stones everywhere. A neighbor used to have a broken pickup truck in front of their house. My childhood best friend and I would often lie on our backs on top of the truck, watch the stars and talk about our hopes and dreams. She'd talk mostly about dreams, and I about hopes.

We were probably ten. Because when you're nine you only have dreams. When you're ten, you have dreams, and you also have hopes. You hope to achieve your dreams. Then from eleven on, you actually work on achieving them. And then when you achieved them you realized what you achieved is so much different from what you hoped for when you were ten.

If I could do it again, find a broken pickup truck, lie on my back on top of that truck with my best friend, and watch the stars, I wonder what dreams she'd tell me and what hopes I'd confide to her. If I could do it again now as the year 2006 draws to a close, what would my hopes and dreams be for the new year and the years to come?

Let me search my feelings.

I hope to write more blog posts next year compared to 2006.

I dream of writing a novel someday. Right now, I don't see it happening anytime soon, but still there's that hope that one day I'll wake up with a brilliant story in mind, a story worth writing. I hope that by that time I will know enough nuts and bolts of writing novels to put that brilliant story idea to paper. This is my biggest dream right now. It's so far from becoming a reality, but I'm happy that there's no age limit to becoming a writer.

I hope for a reorganization of our department soon. Yeah, I know, why would I want that? Wouldn't the status quo be safer? Yes, indeed it would be safer, but somehow I feel that a reorganization of our department could be the push that I'm waiting for to go beyond mediocrity and search for more, search for a better job, search for a better life. The way I see it a reorganization is better than the status quo. Our department could be dissolved and then I'd be compelled to search for a job somewhere else. It's also possible for our department to be dissolved and then I could be re-hired by the outsourcing company that provides IT services for the new IT structure of the company. Whichever way, it could be a blessing in disguise waiting to happen.

I hope to reconnect with my childhood friend (and grade school classmate). The day before Christmas, I attended the christening of my godchild, the first child and son of my childhood best friend and neighbor. My childhood friend was one of the godmothers (the three of us were grade school classmates) and so we met at the reception. We had a pleasant conversation and got to catch up with each other a little bit. It's been a while since we last saw each other. She's as beautiful as ever and still got that smile that captured my heart way back when. Back then, I was fortunate to have also captured her heart. I know what you're thinking, but that's not it. I just want to be in communication with her again. To reconnect. Actually I'd like to reconnect with friends whom I haven't seen or heard from in a while.

I hope to cure my unhealthy tendency to dwell in the past. For the year 2007, may I find it easy to forgive and be easily forgiven. May I heal fast as well as a source for fast healing.

I hope for general happiness for me and my family, and also for my friends.

I hope for general happiness for you.

These are my hopes and my dreams for the year 2007 and the years to come. God bless us all in 2007. Happy new year!

rain, sleep

The sweet rain I cherished as a child
Is the same rain I fear as a grownup.
The gentle rain that never hurt me then,
Now makes me sneeze and cough.
Fear, as Yoda once said,
Is a path to the dark side.
***

At the office, the rain told me to go home.
At home, it told me to sleep.
I am still awake.
The rain speaks a strange language.
***

Into the deep forest of slumber I go.
Unto its grounds I lay down my day memories.
Tomorrow, at the break of dawn,
I shall gather them once more.
Some, I will lose. They are the forgotten.
A few new ones will be added. Lessons learned.
Strange thing, the journey through the night.
***

In a world and at a time
where everybody is sleeping,
I am awake.
I'll guard your dreams.
***

TXT GAP.
Even in my sleep, she is the one I texted.
Even in my wakefulness, she doesn't reply.
***

tale of two poems

I had recently been taking a fifteen-minute nap every after lunch break. I would put on my headset and listen to the playlist I call "sleepy head". In the playlist are instrumental that are very relaxing to the ears and perhaps to the soul. One of the pieces included in this playlist is The Lake House by Rachel Portman from the soundtrack of the movie of the same title. When I played it one day, I imagined myself being at the side of a lake (specifically the lake inside the Del Monte Golf Course in Cawayanon, Bukidnon), sitting down, looking far across the lake to the trees on the other side, with the cool breeze blowing from the lake to my face. I felt an exuberance I've never felt in quite a while. I was so happy that I started writing a poem on my mind expressing my happiness. But I didn't want to break my relaxation to write down what was on my head, so I put it off for the rest of the afternoon and decided to write it down later that evening.

Later that evening... Ha! Big mistake! I tried remembering how I felt earlier that afternoon, but failed. I wrote a poem, anyway, and the result is "dear lake, dear tree" . You can read this poem in my blog. When I reviewed it, I was surprised at how different it was to the one I had in mind during my nap. The poem I wrote down is very sad. I felt sorry for the narrator (that is to say, myself) and so I wrote another one with the intention of writing something with a happier tone. The result is "shimmering lake, beloved trees" that you can also read in my blog. It's happier, but not as happy as the one I had in mind earlier that day.

One inspiration. Two different poems. Two moods. Two poems that are different than the one originally intended. I should never put off writing down a poem I have in mind. Pen and paper must always be at the ready.

shimmering lake, beloved trees

Shimmering waters of the lake
I come before you here
Thankful for the gift of you
You who touch my heart
You who heal my soul
With the light on tiptoe
Dancing with random grace
On sweet waters
Waters dancing with such delight
Caressed by the wind

O beloved trees of the forest
I visit you once more
Grateful for the gift of you
With shade that cools my soul
That warms my heart
With the light on tiptoe
Dancing with random grace
On grateful leaves
Leaves dancing with utter joy
Moved by the wind

dear lake, dear tree

O dear lake, sweet sister
I come upon you again
Tired and aching
Hug me once again
With your soothing waters
Heal my broken soul
Caress me like the wind caresses you
Because of you I survive
Over uncertainties and doubts
You make me float

O dear tree, strong brother
I seek you once more
Confused and lonely
Shelter me once again
Under your assuring shades
Heal my broken heart
Lift me up like the wind lift the leaves
Because of you I survive
Over cruelties and deception
You make me fly

Tale of two rivers

For the last few weeks I've been reading two novels that contain impressive rivers.

The first river is not named, but let me call it River Siddhartha as it is from the novel Siddhartha written by Herman Hesse. This is a very wise river. If you listen closely, you'll hear it give you advice. And if you listen even closer you'll hear it laugh (sometimes mock you), sing, or cry. Many a soul that searched for enlightenment found it here, after listening to the river.

The second river is the River Piedra. Legend has it that everything that falls into the river turns into stone and sinks down the riverbed. People with broken hearts often go on the banks of the Piedra and try to rip their hearts and throw them into the river to have the pain they feel taken away from them.

I wish these two rivers are near Cagayan de Oro, or even better, near Bugo so that I can walk by it everyday. Everyday that I go to work. And everyday that I go back from work. Whenever I'm weary, I could walk on the banks of the River Piedra and touch its waters. Aren't those tears? I could find comfort in knowing that I'm not the only one tired of everything that has been going on around me. Whenever I'm lost, I could sit by the River Siddhartha and listen to its wise waters. Sure, she'll mock me for the stupid things that I put myself through, but then later she'll take pity and tell me my options. She won't tell me what to do. I have to solve my own problems, but under her guidance.

It would be nice to have those two rivers near me. Both rivers are gifts from God, gifts for the weary, aching, broken souls that wander around the city. Both rivers are gifts from God, gifts for the happy, glad, contented souls that skip about around the city. Lamentations and celebrations united by each river, united by both rivers. Cries and laughter heard as one in each river, in both rivers. Tired souls and happy souls in communion by the two rivers.

This December, this Christmas season, may I find both rivers.

By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept

By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coelho

This is a story about Pilar and her childhood friend (love) who left the place they grew up in to pursue his dreams. One day they met again and he asked her to join him on a journey. She didn't know it then, when she agreed to join him, that it would also be a journey through the memories of their past that would beg her to reevaluate her thoughts on faith and religion and her feelings for him.

This is one of those books (and there are lots of them) that I probably won't read on my own. A friend sent me an email last August asking me to read this book adding that on page 178 she almost cried. She's the same friend (now working in Dubai) who convinced me to watch the Korean dramedy "Goong". I don't know whether we read the same edition of the novel, but on page 178 of the edition I read there's a passage that I read a couple of times before continuing on.

"I am going to sit here with you by the river. If you go home to sleep, I will sleep in front of your house. And if you go away, I will follow you—until you tell me to go away. Then I'll leave. But I have to love you for the rest of my life."

I have to love you for the rest of my life... I think I stared at this sentence for who knows how many minutes before continuing with the next. To love somebody for the rest of your life even after he or she told you to leave. It's sad and probably won't stand the test of time. And if you do it even after knowing somebody else owns her heart, there's that question of being able to love someone else. Wouldn't you want to love somebody else? Wouldn't you want the possibility of loving someone else? But to ask these questions would be missing the point, according to the book. To ask those questions would be to worry about whether she'll say yes or no. It's as if you can't love unless she loves you back. If I read the book correctly, it's telling me not to worry about how it will end. If it's a sad ending, remember the happy moments before that. God's will be done.

by the river

I was by the River Piedra this afternoon and I saw you there. I touched the waters and I felt your tears. May the river carry them far so that you may forget the pain of shedding them. In due time every wound will heal. May he recognize your love, my lady. And may he love you back.

Distant rose

I started writing this poem months ago (June 2006, to be exact). I never got around to finishing it and now I've decided I don't want to finish it anymore. And so I'm posting it now. It shall remain like this forever. By the way, I started writing this poem after a conversation (via Gmail chat) with Mungkey, a poet and a college classmate. It started with me asking him about his "signature" and ended up with us talking about how sad and painful it was to be in love with women who are way out of our league. He said he wrote some poems about such predicament and I thought why wouldn't I do the same.

admiring a rose from a distance

it was not what i hope to find
but over green fields there it is
a flower so pretty
and i go lurking, admiring
the rose from a distance

the gentle breeze touches it
and i am moved, filled with
joy and peace and wonder
over the distance i felt it
such beauty and grace, such color

i have to move closer
to see things clearer
but as i walk towards it
the colors begin to fade
i'm at a lost, what's happening

and then i saw it
a blood red ribbon tied around its stalk
a kid made you his
i come closer and you fade
beauty and color and fragrance all

or is it the flower's choosing
to fade away as i draw closer
i don't know, how, why can cruelty
be inside such beautiful creature
i'm at a lost, what's going on

Dream of walking

I awoke with a start. Just last night I went to sleep assured that I'm taking the right path, that I'm moving in the right direction. This morning it seemed that reality came crushing down on me. I can forgive myself, of course, for believing that I'm moving the right way. But up to how long, I'm no longer sure. Perhaps I loved this forest so much that I didn't care that I was moving around in circles. I see a familiar tree and I say to myself, "I've seen this tree before." But instead of taking a different path, I find myself moving in exactly the same direction. I know I'm moving around in circles, but maybe I want to move around in circles.

But something changed.

Today, I woke up under a tree, a tree that gave me shelter many times before, and the question just came to me. What am I doing? It's as if the tree asked me, "aren't you getting tired of the forest? Aren't you tired of walking the same path? Of admiring the same trees? You can't stay here forever."

Then the alarm went off. I must get up, prepare, and go to work.

One raw tomato and a glass of orange juice

I missed my late sister. Eventhough she died when I was four (she was seven), I have memories and glimpses of us having fun, of her taking care of me, of her taking me along when she played or visited her friends, and of us being scolded by our parents for skipping an afternoon nap to go to a friend's house. One recurring memory I have of her was when she prepared an orange juice for me. I'd watch her prepare it. She probably did this a lot (not just one lazy afternoon) because if you ask me what I remember of her, I'd always picture her preparing that one cool, refreshing glass of orange juice for me. Another would be a picture of her handing me lots of raw tomatoes to eat, be it in our house or our neighbor's house. And I know I'm not imagining this tomato-eating thing because my childhood friends who are older than me would say that she did do it (handing me raw tomatoes for me to eat) a lot. If she lived beyond seven years old, I'd probably have a glass of orange juice and one raw tomato as my favorite snack.

Reunited with the departed

Last November 2, All Souls Day, I attended the 5:30PM mass at Xavier University. In the homily the priest said, "The sure way to be reunited with our loved ones who went ahead of us is to die." I'm sure he didn't mean to say that we should kill ourselves to be reunited with our departed loved ones, but rather it was an assurance that we'll meet them again someday, after we die. And this is reason enough not to fear death.

Around me

What's happening around me...

For one thing, Eric is in the brink of eternal bliss according to his latest blog entry. Good for him. For another, tomorrow, Michelle and Beau are going to be married. Congratulations to both of them.

What's happening inside me...

All Saints Day is approaching fast and I'm reminded to miss my late sister who died when she was seven. I wrote a poem in her memory and I hope to finish it in time for the November 1 remembrances. I sincerely wish she were alive today. It'd have been great to have a real sister (not just a friend who you consider a sister).

I'm currently reading "Peter Pan in Scarlet" by Geraldine McCaughrean, the official sequel to JM Barrie's classic novel, "Peter and Wendy". The book is an advanced Christmas present from my best friend. The only real reason why I haven't finished the book yet is that I got sick a couple of days after receiving the book (last week) and this week I am pretty much busy creating photo story videos for my best friend's trip. Finishing the book by now would have been nice, but making my best friend happy (who gave me the book in the first place) is pretty enjoyable, too. She's happy. I'm happy. What's not to love?

Grace, beauty, and kindness

Once upon grace, beauty, and kindness you truly became my friend. It was when I almost said goodbye. I wanna play the meeting again and again inside my mind. The moment that you stopped being an acquaintance and became a friend. After that, the moment that you stopped being a friend and became a best friend, my closest friend. I was determined to get close from the start, but as I inched myself closer people noticed. And they had other things in mind. None of which involved me being this close to you. They labeled my intentions and took it upon themselves to build a wall around you and another, even taller one, around me. At one point I was the one building the wall around me. I was frightened. I almost gave up. But I didn't and I am glad. I'm glad I didn't stop talking to you, despite my confusion and assumptions and doubts. I'm grateful you didn't stop talking to me. I'm glad I continued walking this path. Imperfect it may be, but it's the only one I know.

I don't know if you consider me your best friend or a close friend. But does it really matter? I decided to make this an unconditional friendship. You don't have to name me your best friend. You don't have to call me your closest friend. It wouldn't change a thing. I would still consider you my best friend. I would still call you my closest friend. Any closer and you would be a sister. A sister that I had and then never had since Emily died when she was seven (I was four).

Sometimes when I close my eyes, I'm transported to a world where you and I are more than friends. That I loved you beyond friendship. That you loved me beyond friendship. But when I open them, I'm transported back to this world. A world where only the first is true. Where the latter is uncertain but didn't matter.

I will be who you want me to be. I will be what you need me to be. Our paths have crossed and then didn't cross. Even if our paths will never cross again, even if in the future the roads we are taking are forever perfectly parallel to each other, never intersecting, never meeting, I am happy. I will find comfort in knowing where you are, where I am, and at what direction we are moving. I will find comfort that at one moment in time, at one point in my life, you became my closest friend. That at one point in time, a time I will forever treasure in my heart, we met. We met the moment I almost said goodbye.

Note: This attempt at prose poetry (yes, such thing exists, google it up) is inspired by an angel feather that tickles me everyday.

"But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them."[Chapter 10, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone]

In the timeline we call life, there are brief magical moments that changed its direction. Meeting a friend, no not the time we learn each other's name, beyond that, the exact magical second that somebody truly becomes our friend, is one of these wonderful sparks in our timelines. Small compared to the rest of the line. Barely noticeable. But if we squint our eyes a bit more and a bit longer, they're there for us to cherish. Forever.

If love is lightning

if love is lightning
may it strike twice
may i love her now
like i loved her then

if love is the rose
may it blossom once more
after i shed
all its petals

if love is a place
may i survive walking
the rough maze
that leads to it

if love is the rain
may it again quench my thirst
after i burn myself
everytime under the sun

if love is lightning
may she disobey the laws of nature
and strike my heart now
like she struck my heart then

Note: I got this picture from Angel Feathers Tickle Me, a blog that I love to read everyday.

House M.D.

I bought the DVD for House M.D. last Saturday and watched the first 12 episodes of the first season. I only planned to watch the pilot episode, but I really really liked it that I just couldn't wait to watch the next episode and the episode after that and the episode after that. It's like CSI, but with doctors instead of detectives. There have been a lot of medical TV dramas or comedies in the past. This is the only one that I really like aside from "Chicago Hope" years ago. The casts are pretty good especially Hugh Laurie and Omar Epps. But like Lost, 24, and Prison Break, I think the writers should get the highest praise for this series.

Story

From IMDB:

An antisocial maverick doctor who specializes in diagnostic medicine does whatever it takes to solve puzzling cases that come his way using his crack team of doctors and his wits.

From its official Fox website:

DR. GREGORY HOUSE (Hugh Laurie) is devoid of anything resembling bedside manner and wouldn’t even talk to his patients if he could get away with it. Dealing with his own constant physical pain, he uses a cane that seems to punctuate his acerbic, brutally honest demeanor. While his behavior can border on antisocial, House is a brilliant diagnostician whose unconventional thinking and flawless instincts afford him widespread respect.

An infectious disease specialist, House thrives on the challenge of solving medical puzzles in order to save lives. He has assembled an elite team of young experts to help him unravel these diagnostic mysteries: neurologist DR. ERIC FOREMAN (Omar Epps); immunologist DR. ALLISON CAMERON (Jennifer Morrison); and intensevist DR. ROBERT CHASE (Jesse Spencer). House has a good friend and confidant in oncology specialist DR. JAMES WILSON (Robert Sean Leonard), with whom he consults with on a regular basis.

Wicker Park

Love makes us do crazy things that we normally wouldn't even think of doing.

Written by Gilles Mimouni and Brandon Boyce. Directed by Paul McGuigan. Starring Josh Hartnett (Matthew), Rose Byrne (Alex), Matthew Lillard (Luke), and Dianne Kruger (Lisa).

Running Time: 114 minutes.

Story

This is another of those movies that are hard to write the synopsis of without spoiling the plot twist. So let me just say it involves a very attractive girl (Lisa) that is being followed around and being admired by a shy boy (Matthew). This makes for a boring movie, but in this one an evil person lurks behind the bushes determined to stop the attractive girl from ending up with the shy boy. I know that this is a very simplistic way of describing the story, but I really find it hard to describe the plot without revealing the twist.

Thoughts

This is a very confusing movie, at least until the plot twist is being slowly revealed. Before that you'd look at the screen with the most skeptical look you can muster and ask, "What is this movie about?" Thirty minutes into the movie and I was still wondering what it is all about. I would have stopped watching at that point, but I didn't because the filmmakers made me want to see how it will end for the two protagonists. You'd actually care for the characters in this movie even though nothing much is going on for almost forty minutes.

And that's pretty much all I can say about the movie. Chicago in the "The Lake House" is beautiful. Chicago here is pretty boring except for the park itself. I didn't really care for the soundtrack except for Coldplay's "The Scientist" near the end. Love the twist, even though I thought they could have presented the whole story in a less confusing way. Would I watch it again? Maybe. Would I recommend it to my friends? Not really.

A lantern into a forest night

Somebody forwarded this text message to me some time last week.

Carrying a lantern into a forest night doesn't guarantee you'll see all the trees. It only means that you can see a few steps ahead of you, far enough to keep your footing sure. Likewise, as the Lord lights your path, He may not shine all the answers to the shadowy questions in your mind, but He will give you all the light you need to scale life's obstacles with confidence and faith. God bless and good afternoon.

Rain, fireflies, and true love

Keulraesik (The Classic)

Leave it to the rain to bring two people closer. Leave it to the fireflies to make them fall in love.

Written and directed by Kwak Jae-yong. Starring Ye-jin Son (Ji-hae/Ju-hie), In-seong Jo (Sang-min), Seung-woo Cho (Jun-ho), and Ki-woo Lee (Tae-su).

Running Time: 127 minutes.

Story

It's kind of hard to write the synopsis without spoiling the plot twist. So let me just say it involves a girl who writes love letters for her best friend. The girl (the one who writes the letters) happens to also have a crush with the guy (the recipient of the letters). Then in flashbacks you have the story of a man who writes love letters for his best friend. He (the writer) fell in love with the girl (the recipient of the letters). This girl in the flashbacks is the mother of the girl (the writer) in present time.

Thoughts

I like it better than "Il Mare", although I prepared and waited to cry my heart out for 10 minutes (as suggested by Keevee, a friend from Accounting and a high school classmate) but never did, not for 10 minutes anyway. It did make me cry twice. Both times near the end of the movie. It's a sad movie, but with a satisfying end. Maybe my thoughts keep distracting me that's why I didn't cry as hard as my friend. Perhaps I was thinking too much. Halfway through the movie I kept on thinking why did they bother to tell the story of the daughter in parallel with the story of the mother. I kept on thinking the story of the mother stands on it's own and I thought they're trying to pull an unnecessary stunt of telling the story of the daughter. "The mother's story is beautiful enough and complete enough for a movie, why bother telling the daughter's story?" But when Sangmin (the daughter's crush) used the exact line used in one of the mother's letter ("When the sun shines in the ocean, I think of you. When the dim moonlight shines over spring, I think of you," or something very similar to this) I thought there's something going on here. I wondered where he got the line. Perhaps the mother wrote a book, or perhaps the father. So maybe my thoughts kept distracting me from feeling extreme sadness from the story. But I love the twist in the end. Love the soundtrack. Love the cinematography. Love the river. Would have love to take pictures there. A very sad movie, but with a satisfying end. I agreed with how they ended the story so maybe that's the reason why I didn't cry for 10 minutes like my friend. I like how it ended.

And that's " The Classic". Leave it to the rain to bring two people closer. Leave it to the fireflies to make them fall in love. You'll know what I'm talking about when you watch the movie. I wish Hollywood remade this movie, just like "The Lake House" which is an American remake of the Korean "Il Mare". Would I watch it again? Definitely. Would I recommend it to my friends? Definitely.

By the way, there's a short battle scene shot in the Philippines. :) Thanks to Mae Etesa for lending me her copy of the movie and Kathy who owned the original from which it was copied.

Take a walk

It's kind of weird that I often stay late in the office (sometimes as late as 11 PM) just so that when I walk home the streets are empty, the breeze is cool, and the surroundings are quiet. Yeah, I have to wait a good number of hours before the clock strikes 11 and I can do my reflective walk home. A long wait for the five-minute walk that is the office-to-home. And in those short walks I can think of a lot of things to write in this blog. But when I reach home, I forget all about them. Tragic.

***

Sometimes, I just want time to myself and do nothing but reflect or meditate. Not to gain newfound knowledge or come up with groundbreaking realizations. No, not for them. I just want to stop being busy and sit down or lie down and relax and think. I find this hard to do at home. I'm bound to be interrupted. And there's no bummer like the bummer of being interrupted in the middle of a reflection. :-) It's also hard to do this at the park in our barangay. It's too darn hot during the day and there's no covered benches or anything and it's too dark in the evening. But you know what? I think I found the perfect place and perfect time to do this sit-and-think stuff. And it's near our house. It's the office on Sundays. Yup. I once went to the office on Sunday to rearrange or reorganize my cubicle. But instead of doing so, I ended up playing easy listening type of music and just sat back and thought about stuff. Nobody else was there to disturb me or distract me. I was alone. I was in a secluded place. I was in a cool place. It was very peaceful. And I walked away from there feeling refreshed and ready to take on a new week of work.

Golf side trip

These are shots of the golf course minus the players. I believe that these are desktop wallpaper materials. All photos taken using a point-and-shoot type of digital camera.

Golf Side Trip

Aug 23, 2006 - 31 Photos

Golf

It's been a while since my last post. I'm learning how to play golf now. I think it's practical that I learn it now while I still have free access to the golf course of the company (while I'm still connected with the company) and with co-employees who also play the game. It's a very relaxing sports, actually. I can't wait to play my first game, the whole 18 holes. (Check my photo album for more golf pictures.)

Weird Carl

I don't know what the word "meme" means. I don't know if it's a real word. But I have been tagged by Eric, and when you're tagged you're suppose to cooperate.

Six weird things about me

1. I think aloud, sometimes, which is embarassing at times.
2. I don't want to go home before 7:00 PM.
3. At work, I sometimes go to the restroom and back to my cubicle trying carefully to place each foot inside a tile boundary.
4. I have a convex mirror on top of my workstation monitor.
5. I have this urge to be locked in a room with the Goong OST playing out loud that I can't hear myself thinking. I wonder how it would feel to just stop thinking for a while. I need a vacation.
6. I love to walk home from work past 11 in the evening. Empty streets, silent streets, cool breeze, dimly lit paths.

Okay, I'm tagging Girlay, Dondino, Earl, Natnat, Ron Michael, and Mungkey. None of them will probably do this meme, so I'm also tagging you. Go do it now. :)

"Book" meme from Eric

Tagged by Eric with a meme. The rules:

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag three people.

My book is The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery given to me by my friend Kathy from Accounting who is now in Dubai. Thanks, Kath. Unfortunately, there's no page 123. The last page is 109.

Look very carefully at the landscape so as to be sure to recognise it if ever one day you travel to Africa, through the desert. And if you should happen to come upon this spot, please do not hurry on. Wait a little, exactly under the star.

Just in case that would be breaking the rules let me find another book, thicker this time. The nearest one is a command reference that is the same book that Eric had in his meme. So I guess it's the next book for me. It's Tranquility in a Whirlpool: Wisdom Within by Shreyas Morakhia. There's a page 123. Thank God. :)

I concluded that the world we live in is unreal and only a projection of our mind. Let's now give some more thought to the three creative tools of the mind i.e., thought, word and action. I discussed earlier that the process of creation starts with the thought, which then proceeds to the spoken word, which then translates into the physical reality through action or deed.

Okay, I think I'm sure I followed the rules this time. I guess I'm tagging Girlay, Earl, and Dondino. I don't know whether they have enough idle time to do this, though, so feel free to do the meme if you want. :)

A friend no matter what

A friend no matter what

Even if I seem to walk away
Even if I seem confused
Even if I look hurt
Even if you find me crying
Even if I seem to hide

Don't look for me
Don't wipe away my tears
Don't try to ease my pain
Don't try to explain
Don't walk towards me

All these are fleeting

So long as I'm breathing
Your friend will I be.


Dedication

For a friend I'm so blessed to have met. I hope she'll be my friend forever, no matter what.

Update 7/26/2006

I hope people remember that this is a poem filled with metaphors just to concretized abstract things. I'm not being overly dramatic here. I'm just writing a poem. That's all. I also removed her name from the dedication for privacy reasons. She knows who she is anyway. I wrote this poem, by hand, on her notebook of text messages. :)

Hide and seek

Sometimes I amazed myself at what I get myself into. A tangled web of deception. A ruthless form of hide and seek. I feel like I've thrown myself into this game where I seem to be the only one who doesn't know the rules. Not knowing the rules wouldn't have matter that much if I end up being good at this game. But I'm not good at it. Never has, never will. I'm playing with veterans who know all the rules and knowledgeable of every trick. They've played this longer than I did. I should just accept that I'm not good at it and stop playing. I don't want to play anymore. What am I trying to prove anyway?

I say goodbye to this game. I say goodbye to this weird form of hide and seek.

Dear Lord, please give me the strength to get out of this game. Please guide me on how to do it. I really want out this time, O Lord. Please help me. Amen.

In other news...

I've watched the final two episodes of Goong (Palace/Princess Hours) last night. But I'm too tired to blog about it now. I will, soon, hopefully. I finished it just in time when my boss noticed that I no longer come in to work on time. I better be careful. I should exert extra effort to come to work on time. I'm not like this before. I used to come in early and leave late. Time to regain my old self. It'll be hard. It probably won't happen tomorrow. But I have to. Not because my boss wants me to, but because it's the right thing to do. It's the right thing to do just like to stop playing this hide and seek. It's the right thing to do.

Lots of poems

A friend from HR let me borrow her compilations of poems she wrote some years ago. As I progressed through the pages, my enthusiasm to go finish two poems I started months ago peaked. Two poems that I almost forgot about are now printed on paper that I'm staring at right now, looking for the words to finish them. Well, I'm not actually staring at them this instant because obviously I'm blogging. I'm taking a quick break from staring at them.

Reading someone else's poetry is like staring at someone's soul. This is especially true when you know the person who wrote the poems. It's eerie to stare at someone else's soul. I almost feel guilty. In return I shared to her all eight poems that I have so far written. For sure I've written more, but only eight of them can be found. Those I've written in college are forever lost.

Staring at someone else's soul... Yeah. This is my reaction to reading her poems. Due to lack of sleep, I earlier sent a message stating this to the wrong recipients. Things like this happen when you open two emails at the same time. Your sleep-deprived mind plays game on you. You roll two threads into one. Good thing there's a Recall Message function in MS Outlook. For over a week now I've been sleeping at past twelve midnight and waking up at around 6:30 in the morning. Maybe I shouldn't be finishing these poems while I'm visibly sleepy and tired. Or even better I should start sleeping at 10:00 PM again. I shouldn't even be blogging right now. For all I know, I'm writing gibberish here. Guess I'll find out in the morning when I read what I posted.

Lack of sleep

If a tree drops dead in a forest due to lack of sleep and there's nobody there, does it make a sound?

I feel the wind

Koy found himself sitting
On a hill overlooking the sea,
On the misty grass,
Under the majestic tree,
With the wind fiercely blowing.
His body cold and shivering.
But he didn't mind.
He got up and cried,
"I'm ignoring you
not because I don't feel you,
rather because I do.
Blow and I shiver."
He bowed and sat back.
Shimmering is the sea he's watching.
Gleaming is his future.

It seems that I'm trying to begin every post with an ugly quick free verse, lately. Ugly as they may be, but I like how they can summarize my thoughts in as few words as possible.

In other news...

I'm halfway through the book, "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran. It contains his brilliant thoughts on love, marriage, children, joy and sorrow, among others.

I've seen "Il Mare" yesterday afternoon. I was very tired and sleepy, though, that I think I dozed off a number of times. Now I can't piece the story together. I better watch it again fully awake. This is the Korean movie where the American movie "The Lakehouse" is based on.

Whoa! For four straight years now, Roger Federer of Switzerland is the Wimbledon champ. And he's only 24. The king of clay, Rafael Nadal, gave it his best shot but Federer is simply the king of grass.

one word: pane

The one word for today is pane. And I wrote this:

Clear and smooth and translucent. I can see right through you. You can't hide. You've been read.

If you don't know the rules of One Word, you see one word and you have 60 seconds to write about it. Haha. I think I'm into something here. :)

Somewhere between admiration and love

Peter woke up one night
In a strange place there he was
Beyond the Village of Admiration
Not reaching the City of Love
Walking in circles
Confused

Who's Peter? Don't you mean Carl? Hehe...

In other news...

A colleague from Accounting has just lent me her book, "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran. She's the same friend who because of our email exchanges have made me interested in a Korean novela titled, "Goong" (Palace/Princess Hours). I never thought I'd be interested in watching any Korean novela. The strange thing is she never really directly or deliberately tried to convince me of watching Goong. One day she just sent me the theme song from the novela, we got to talking about it and the story behind it, and before I knew it I asked her if I could borrow her copy. I've just finished watching the 16th episode (of 24). Kamsa hamnida, Kathy.

Last Saturday, July 1, I got together with three of my college classmates (Natnat, Red, and Mark Jason). The plan was to go to mass, dinner, movie, and videoke. Didn't turn out quite as planned due to real world factors. Only Mark and I were able to attend the mass. All four of us had dinner. We didn't get to see a movie because the talking just went on and on. Natnat, Red, and I went to a videoke house, but the house was filled, so we had to wait a while. Red wasn't able to wait (or she just doesn't want to sing) so she left early. So it was down to me and Natnat for a three-hour singing till past two in the morning the next day.

While leaving, we passed by the room where my friends from work along with our Japanese friend were singing their hearts out. And so I stayed there and sang a few songs till past three in the morning.

I have not love in vain

If you are happy
Even if you're with someone else
I will let go of how I feel
And I am happy
I have not love in vain.

:'(

Haha. Been busy with my boring life these days that I haven't blog in a while. Even the five lines above wasn't intended for this blog. I emailed this to a friend in Accounting who loaned me her copy of the Korean drama, "Goong". This is what one of the male character in the series feels like right now in the episodes I'm currently watching. We do this sort of discussion about the series and in one of our conversations I sent it. I don't think you need to know what "Goong" is all about to understand his feelings. Maybe this is how I feel right now, too. Maybe. Shall I elaborate on this? Perhaps in the future.

A tiny cross

A tiny cross to remind me...

To always be kinder than is necessary (JMB)
To forgive
To forget
To heal
To pray
To smile
To move on

A tiny cross to remind me that everything's gonna be alright.

Birthdays: Michelle and Mae Etesa

I'm putting this here for posterity's sake. I sent this email earlier today. As a tease to remind Michelle and Mae Etesa (friends and colleagues, both) of their promised ice cream treat for their birthdays. Please don't think that I'm only after the food. I also sent them real birthday greetings.

TIME CHECK
It's three minutes before eleven.

TODAY
For the year that was
For the year ahead

At NOON
When the clock strikes twelve

For the ICE CREAM that will fill us after lunch
For what they mean
For what they don't

THANK YOU
Mitch and Mae
Feed the hungry
And you will never be hungry

5:30 PM mass at the Xavier University chapel

From now on (actually I've been doing this since April) every time I'm in the city and every chance I get, I'm going to attend the 5:30 PM mass at the Xavier University chapel. Whatever the day of the week, no matter that there's no special occasion, I'm going to attend the 5:30 PM mass. It's not because I'm praying for something big, on the contrary I'm doing this as a form of thanksgiving, for everything that God has done for me. Despite the many trials and tribulations in my life, despite all the pains, I still can say that God has been good to me. Sometimes I even think that I don't deserve some of things He has given me. I should have done this a long time ago. Except for one friend I talked to last night, nobody else knows that I'm doing this, not even my parents. Well, now you, the readers of this blog, know. And my parents still don't. :-)

Sing a sad song to end a bad day?

The farewell video of a fallen American Idol finalist is accompanied by David Powter's Bad Day. Part of the lyrics says, "you sing a sad song just to turn it around." Interesting. I tried to sing my way out of a bad day before, I just don't think they were sad songs. Could a sad song truly end a bad day? Probably not. There's a greater chance of ending a bad day by singing Bukas Palad songs.

Bring on the cooties

Little Manhattan

Written by Jennifer Flackett. Directed by Mark Levin. Starring Josh Hutcherson (Zathura), Charlie Ray, Bradley Whitford, and Cynthia Nixon.

Running Time: 84 minutes.

Story

I don't know if I can call this a coming of age comedy/story, but it's certainly a falling in love story. You can call it a romantic comedy, with emphasis on comedy. 10-year old Gabe used to think girls are disgusting creatures that could bring you cooties (without knowing what 'cooties' mean), until he discovers 11-year old Rosemary Telesco. Actually Gabe rediscovers her since she's been his classmate since kindergarten. He fell in love with her, and she with him. He discovers romantic love at the same time he discovered the end of another one. His parents are getting a divorce. Will it be a happy ending for Gabe and Rosemary? Will it be a sad ending for Gabe's parents?

Impression

About two minutes into the movie, you'll immediately know that this is more of a comedy than a sappy coming-of-age drama. I love comedies and this is among the funniest movie that I've seen. The characters are not kidding with each other, but they came out very funny. There's plenty of laugh-out-loud moments. It does say a lot about how funny our lives can be, without us meaning them to be funny.

It's also a movie about a small portion of New York City and I can say it's a good movie about that portion of the city. It's definitely a movie born out of the writer and director's love of the city (New Yorker husband and wife team).

Would I see it again? Definitely. Would I recommend it to my friends? Definitely. To those who love comedies, anyway.

Two years of capturing the smaller pictures

I just realized that it's been two years now since I started blogging. My motivation to blog has changed since I posted my second entry (my first entry was a mere "hello, world" to test the blog). My blog is becoming more and more personal, though it still contains short opinions/reviews about a movie that I saw, a book I've read, or a web page that interested me. I'm glad that I have yet to delete a single entry, no matter how embarassing some are, though there are drafts that I haven't posted yet and probably never will.

Onwards to my third year of capturing my life's smaller pictures.

Mother and child

Dark maybe the path they're taking
All steps as sure as those in the morning
Mother and daughter walking and talking
One cool and starless night
Each the light to the other

The rain has stopped and gave them time
The water cleared their paths
Moonlight guiding their every step
The silence carries their voices
To nobody's ear but mine

The older was sharing her regrets in life
The younger her regrets yesterday
The mother was fearful of her past
The child afraid of her future
Uncertainty has a way of scaring

To the world they are alone
But to each other they're not
In this cool and pleasant night
I'm witnessing love at its purest
Only God's own is greater

Story behind the poem:

I started writing this poem late last year. It was about nine o'clock in the evening when the jeepney I was riding home passed by an empty street near the Cogon market area. I think I was only the fifth person in the jeepney. It rained earlier that night so the air has a certain coolness to it. The jeepney had no sound system. All these factors combined for a very reflective ride home. We turned right a certain street and we passed by a woman in her thirties walking with a nine or ten year-old girl. I immediately thought I could make a poem out of it and I think I'm right. Why else would I be posting this if I don't? Sure, I just assumed that they were a mother and a daughter. But it doesn't matter. Only those without imagination would object.

I wrote the first three stanzas in one sitting and then I forgot about it. I stumbled upon it now, about five months later, and added the final stanza. And I'm posting it before I forget about it again. I planned to write a longer poem than this, but then I thought I just want to describe a mother and a daughter talking one cool night, anyway. Poems don't need to have lessons. And I can add lines to it in the future if I have to.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers (biological or not, to those Wendy Moira Angela Darling's of the world).

Should you choose to accept

Mission: Impossible III

Written by Alex Kurtzman, Roberto Orci, and JJ Abrams. Directed by JJ Abrams(Alias, Lost). Starring Tom Cruise, Ving Rhames, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Michelle Monaghan. Runtime: 126 minutes.

SM City CDO Cinema 1 (Sunday, May 7, 2006, 2:00 PM)
Attendance: Virtually empty (Deluxe), 90% full (Premiere)

Previews.

American Soldiers (not interesting, no reaction from audience)
Poseidon (vague story, a few stirring from audience)
Over the Hedge (laughs all around)
The Ant Bully (few laughs)
Tristan + Isolde (silence all around, perhaps interested)
The Benchwarmers (few laughs, corny)
The Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift (why make this?)

Story.

What story? This is "Mission Impossible", remember? Okay, let me see if I can summarize this for you. A rescue mission to save an agent being hostaged lead to the discovery of weapon smuggling and conspiracy within the IMF (Impossible Missions Force). The IMF must be the most dysfunctional intelligence agency in the world. This time around Ethan Hunt (Cruise) is about to be married to a nurse (Monaghan) which makes his life as an agent complicated. Follow Ethan Hunt as he rescues a captured agent, gets married, captures a weapons smugler (Hoffman), and uncovers the conspiracy within the IMF. Will Hunt make it alive at the end of the movie?

Impression.

The only real reason why I went to see this movie is JJ Abrams the creator of my favorite TV drama, LOST, directed this movie. I was entertained and so did the rest of the audience. The cities they have to go through to follow the trail of deception and smuggling did not make any sense, but they're still interesting cities. The dialogues are a bit corny. Throughout the movie I said to myself, "That can't be right. Real spies probably don't talk like that." It's still very enjoyable. You just have to suspend disbelief for a couple of hours.

Would I see it again? With the right company, yes. Would I recommend it to my friends? To those friends who love action movies, maybe. To those who want a good story with the action sequences, I won't recommend it. Was it worth the admission price? I was entertained, so I'd say yes.

Roar from the heart

The Wild

Written by Ed Decter, Mark Gibson, Philip Halprin, and John J. Strauss. Directed by Steve Williams. Featuring the voices of Kiefer Sutherland (Samson), James Belushi (Benny), and Eddie Izzard (Nigel). Released by Walt Disney Pictures.

SM City CDO Cinema 3 (Monday, May 1, 2006, 3:30 PM - 5:10 PM)
Attendance: 40% full

Previews.

Mission Impossible 3 (interesting)
X-Men: The Last Stand (will definitely see this one)
Superman Returns (not very interesting)
Poseidon (not interesting)
Just My Luck (bleh)
Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (can't wait to see this)

Story.

You have talking zoo animals: a lion, giraffe, squirrel, koala, and a python. The lion's son has growing up issues. He abandons his common sense to show us he has growing up issues. The poor lion cub ended up being shipped to "the wild", probably Africa. His father along with his closest friends, of course, have to rescue him.

This is not exactly how I want to summarize this movie, but I'm in a hurry, so what I wrote above should be enough to give you a sense of the story. I hope.

Impression.

The movie doesn't have many laugh-out-loud moments like Ice Age 2. But I'd say it has a better story than Madagascar. The story is much tighter. But it's no Finding Nemo, either. The animation is superb, though. Every time a new computer-generated flick comes along, you really notice how fast computer animation technology advances. It just keeps getting better and better every movie.

Would I see it again? Nope. Would I recommend it to my friends? Probably not. Was it worth the ticket price? Not completely, but I didn't regret going to it, either. I had to go buy some stuff, and when you have to travel about a total time of one hour to get to the mall, you might as well take advantage and enjoy a movie (if you have time to spare, of course). It was my reward to myself for winning the war on viral conjunctivitis (a.k.a. sore eyes) the week before with the help of Dr. Santiago Mercado III's prescription. Thanks, doc.

By The Way.

If you suspect you have sore eyes, go to (opthalmologist) Dr. Mercado III. His clinic is located at the fourth floor of CDO Medical Center. Clinic is open Mondays to Saturdays, 10:00 AM to 3:00 PM.

My hero is the dogs that saved my father

Eight Below

Written by Dave DiGilio. Directed by Frank Marshall (Congo, Alive). Starring Paul Walker (The Fast and the Furious) and a bunch of Huskies.

Gaisano Mall Cinema 3 (Thursday, April 20, 2006, 6:40 PM - 8:40 PM)
Deluxe: Virtually empty; Premiere: 80% full
Trailers: Missed them completely, even missed the beginning of the movie.

Story.

I missed the beginning of the movie. A scientist is trying to find a meteorite of some sort in the Antarctic or the South Pole. He is accompanied by the character played by Paul Walker that handles the sled, navigation, and the eight Huskies. They found the meteorite. But on their way back to the camp/research station the scientist got involved in an accident. He was rescued with the help of the lead dog named Maya (don't know the exact spelling). A storm forced the whole team to evacuate the station, leaving the dogs behind because the decision to evacuate was so sudden and the plane can no longer accomodate them. They would just have to go back to get the dogs later. But the storm took a turn for the worse and so no plane can be dispatched to fetch the dogs. This is where the story really begins. The story of survival of eight Huskies left to fend for themselves.

Impression.

The movie reminds me of the documentary, March of the Penguins, that I really liked. The dogs were amazing. They have been trained really well. Kudos to the trainers. I haven't seen a movie with dogs that convey emotion as good as the dogs used in this movie. It is also well written. You would think that it's sappy as typical of survival tales. But it's not. Little victories is mixed with defeats to make the story believable. It should be believable, it's based on a true story after all. Or so I've heard.

Would I see it again? Yes, I'd see it again if I can get some company. Would I recommend it to my friends? Absolutely yes. It's one of those movies with little publicity, but packs some big enjoyment and satisfaction. You get your money's worth.

Note: The title of this post, "My hero is the dogs that saved my father", can really be read within the movie. It's written by the child of the scientist rescued by the dogs.

20 random facts about somebody named Carl

I got the idea for this post from Riclags.

1. Carl had an older sister right up to when he was four. He wrote a poem dedicated to her, but somehow the poem hadn't yet made its way to the blog. He thinks it's not yet finished.
   
2. Carl digs sitcoms. Friends, Still Standing, Yes Dear, Frasier, Everybody Loves Raymond, Perfect Strangers, The Wonder Years, Malcolm in the Middle. Thousand others.
3. The only reality show Carl cares about are The Amazing Race and American Idol. In that order.
4. Carl loves fried food. Fish, pork, beef, chicken, even rice.
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire is the only movie that Carl has seen three times and in three different movie houses.
6. Carl seems to always fall for girls way out of his league, who'll never be able to love him back. Some are too religious for him (you know, those on the brink of becoming nuns). Hehe... Some are too sophisticated. Some are too rich. Life's not fair. Poor Carl.
   
7. Carl loves to program more than he loves administering heartless machines.
8. His bookshelf contains books he hadn't read yet, several books he has yet to finish reading, but he still buys books almost every time he enters a bookstore.
9. When asked for a preferred course or courses in several college applications, he wrote Accountancy on top. He took and finished Computer Science.
10. If he didn't pass the scholarship, his family wouldn't have been able to afford to send him to Xavier University High School (XUHS).
11. Carl has a terrible singing voice, but it didn't stop him becoming a member of XUHS Music Ministry in his freshman year, eventually elected Secretary in his junior year, resigned the post in the middle of the school year due to differences with the moderator, and elected to Vice-Presidency in his senior year. A friend who was an officer of the Ministry during Carl's freshman year made it possible for him to become a member without knowing a single musical instrument and without knowing how to sing. Four years of practice, though, made him almost able to sing. He was dedicated. He never missed a practice session. When you are in an organization that from time to time practices three hours everyday, commitment will be the only thing preventing you from quitting. To this day, he believes that the Music Ministry is an organization of committed individuals. Only dedicated members survive.
    
12. On his sophomore year in high school a friend invited him to apply for a position in the school organ. On his junior year, a teacher invited him to it. He never accepted the invitation. On hindsight, he considers it a mistake.
13. In college, a chemistry teacher selected him as one of the contestants to a quiz/contest sponsored by Intel Philippines to be held in Cebu. Carl opted to spend his summer with his mother in Ilo-ilo instead of training and participating in the contest. On hindsight, he considers it a mistake.
14. He passed the opportunity to take the exam for a Cebu-based IT company, headhunters of which visited his school trying to find qualified students for employment opportunities after college. Somehow, he just couldn't miss a Religious Studies class. On hindsight, he considers it a mistake.
15. Carl thinks the cockroach is the most disgusting animal in the planet.
16. Carl missed volunteering for his local parish church. If only the company he works for doesn't have Saturday as working day. All lay organizations he cares for meet on Saturdays.
17. He thought of entering priesthood once. He thought how wonderful it would have been to surrender himself completely to God. To not worry about tomorrow. But then again, all acolytes (altar boys) have thought of entering priesthood at one point of their lives. Nothing special about this.
    
18. Carl, in elementary school, actually even before that in kindergarten, was tagged by teachers as the friendliest, the easiest to be friends with. Today he wonders what happened between then and now that made him a very reserved or timid person.
19. Carl wished he studied harder in college (just like in high school and in elementary school).
20. At age six, bored at a relative's house, Carl walked several kilometers all the way home from Tagoloan to Bugo leaving his father and relatives worried sick. They thought he got lost or was in an accident or something. The fact that he went straight to a neighbor's house without going home till evening didn't help. When "found" his parents and relatives were pretty happy at first for he was safe and then later pretty angry for his stunt. But what could they do, right? He was six. This is an anecdote that makes him smile every time he remembers it.
    

When I die

The idea for this entry came from Dondino's blog.

Someday when I die, I won't take it against those I care about if they won't be able to make it to my wake and funeral. I'm perfectly fine with this. I'm contented to just fade away. But I hope that they would pray for my soul. And if those I leave behind have enough money, I would want to be cremated and my ashes thrown to the seas. That way, every All Souls Day they go to the beach instead of the cemetery. They could just pray for my soul and then enjoy the rest of the day at the beach. Maybe I should setup a Personal Cremation Fund. That way, those I leave behind don't have to spend a single peso out of their pockets to fulfill my wish.

Behind the camera-phone

Sometimes when you're behind the camera
You'd be out of the picture
Out of the loop, disconnected
You see happy faces forgetting to wear one
You remember happy occasions
O wonder where you were?
You missed them not but feel like you do
Sometimes when you're behind the camera


Note:
This is an instant poem I created to go along with the pictures I've taken using my camera-phone. I was emailing them to my friends and had nothing much to put in the body of the message. The cheezy lines just came to me without warning. This by the way is not the one that got sent. This one contains an additional line. Still cheezy, though. Hehe... :)

Holy weekend in review

I tried my best not to catch cold, but failed. Now my nose is running wild and every few minutes or so I have to clear it. And my head, well, it's not a full-blown headache(or else I wouldn't be writing) but it's starting to feel funny. Good thing I already did my laundry yesterday and so now, Easter Sunday, I have the entire day to do nothing, but sit and feel the cold take over my body. I guess I'll have plenty of time to write my thoughts down.

Happy Easter everyone (all four of you reading my blog). I hope you had a very meaningful Holy Week vacation as I did. Nothing beats having to go back to the deserted office on Maundy Thursday to move some stuff (I'm transferring to my third cubicle). Good Friday, well, I don't know what I did on Friday. I was probably lying around feeling heavy and sleepy. Black Saturday, I began to understand what's happening. So before I went to a full-blown war with the colds I did my laundry in the morning. It was a good judgement call because by the afternoon my nose began to run. Every hour or so I have to clear it. I tried to ignore my nose and continued my reading of "If You Want To Write" (which by the way I should have finished reading weeks ago). By evening it became apparent that I won't be able to attend the traditional (at least in our barangay) Easter Mass at dawn. Now, it's Easter Sunday and my nose is running, my head is slowly spinning, and my throat is beginning to sore. What a vacation!

Note:
I went on to write about my most memorable Holy Weekend, but after writing the first sentence my head really ached. I had to stop writing. Perhaps I'll write about it in the future. And if it's not already clear, I wrote this Easter Sunday, using the good ol' pen and paper because I couldn't stand staring at the computer. :-)

That many days

Okay so I'm in front of the television right now. I look right and I see a Del Monte calendar. A couple of feet to its right is another calendar. I look left and I see a San Miguel calendar. To the right of the TV is a Columban Missionaries' calendar featuring Pope Benedict XVI. If I stand and go to the kitchen I won't see another calendar, but when I go back to my seat in front of the TV I'll be greeted by another calendar along the way. This one should no longer even exist, it's a 2005 calendar. It has a religious painting so that's probably the reason my mother won't throw it away.

Half of me just wants to rip them off and bury them, well except for maybe the Columban one because it has the picture of Benedict XVI whom I admire and it has the biggest number print among the five. But then the stronger half of me is afraid of the chaos that will ensue in our house. I can't understand my mother's obsession with calendars. Okay so maybe obsession is a strong word to use. But hey, one calendar per room is enough. I have a National Bookstore and a Mercury Drug Store calendars in my room. But only the latter one is hung in the unpainted wooden wall of my room. One is enough. April 15, 2006 will always be a Saturday no matter how many calendars you have.

Note:
So obviously I'm not in front of the TV right now, but I was while writing the draft. Okay, I don't know why I'm trying to explain this thing. It's implied, right?

Where am I?

It's been a while since I had a reflective Holy Week. Actually, it's been a while since I had any reflective week. To tell you the truth, I don't know where I am. I mean I know where I am physically, but I don't know where I am. Sometimes I wish there is a forest between our house and my workplace. So that I can stop by the woods and reflect every day that I go to work and perhaps every time I go home from work. I don't have to gain groundbreaking wisdom out it. Sometimes I just want to stop and think about where I am and where I am headed.

Friends

I was rummaging through my drafts folder and found this unpublished blog entry sitting around not knowing she should have been posted weeks ago. I guess I was busy the week I intended to post this. I have certain feelings about this sitcom that I can't quite put into words. Is this even possible? Can a television program do this to people? Anyway, I feel that this entry is incomplete and I don't know how to complete it. So here I'm posting it and moving on to other stuffs that my mind can come up with.

*****

Except for the six keys on the kitchen counter, there's no hint that there ever were people in the apartment. Six friends, each lived there at least once, have left. And though it was not the most beautiful of all last episodes for a sitcom, I still loved the ending and felt sad that it's over.

I can't believe that Friends has ended. I know the last episode was shown a couple of years ago, but the rerun at Star World has just ended. For one year, I have been watching it everyday at 7:30 PM. I don't know what to do with this vacant TV time now. My favorite TV sitcom is over. And it left me wanting to buy the ten seasons in DVD.

I was introduced to this sitcom about 11 years ago. Back then my favorite TV program was Hercules back to back with Xena: Warrior Princess. I know, depending on what TV genre you like you'd either say, "Cool," or say, "Yuck." But that's not the point. One day ABC 21 decided to have a new lead-in program to Hercules. It is a little sitcom called Friends. My friends and I immediately loved this new show. We watched it every time it's on. But the problem with Philippine television is that they tend not to show programs in the correct order. Some random episodes are skipped and in three months time or so episodes are being played back. It's really frustrating. I mean you make an effort to free your time so that you could watch a program only to find out that they're playing an episode you've already seen. In due time, I've stopped watching the show.

And then there was cable. Then Star World came. When I heard that they're going to do a rerun of the complete ten seasons of Friends, I was very excited and rightfully so. It completely reran Friends from season one to season nine daily. There was a minor break with repeat episodes and then season ten, the last one, was shown beginning February 2006. Since the schedule is Mondays to Fridays, one season takes just about one month to finish.

Now it's over. And I'm a bit sad.

Life as an indie flick

Got this from Riclag's blog. Took the test. Tests as short as this should not be taken seriously. But just the same, here's my result:

***The Movie Of Your Life Is An Indie Flick***

You do things your own way - and it's made for colorful times.
Your life hasn't turned out how anyone expected, thank goodness!

Your best movie matches: Clerks, Garden State, Napoleon Dynamite

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?
http://www.blogthings.com/ifyourlifewasamoviewhatgenrewoulditbequiz/

TAGay Songs (from girlay)

RULE: List seven songs you're into right now. No matter what the genre is, whether (or not) they have words, or even if they're any good [eh?!], they must be songs you're really enjoying right now [sabi mo nga, diba?]. Post these instructions in your blog along with your seven songs, then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to...

TAGay Songs:

1. Come What May - Lani Hall duet with Herb Alpert (this is not the one from a musical)
2. Beautiful In My Eyes - Joshua Kadison
3. Neville's Waltz - Patrick Doyle
4. Harry In Winter - Patrick Doyle
5. Potter Waltz - Patrick Doyle
6. High - The Speaks
7. Panunumpa - Carol Banawa/Fr. Jboy Gonzales

Passing the TAGay to:

Lord Riclags
Jumangz
Urlaps
Gov. Natnat
Ardie
Ron Michael
Mungkey
Rhea
Matt
Ealbert (where's your blog?)
Fr. Jboy (hehe...probably won't fit your blog)

Ealbert

Stop reading my blog and start writing your own. Para ako napud ang magbasa...

Skip a day

If there's a day in a year that I could skip, it would have to be my birthday. I just hate the attention that comes along with it. I don't know what to call it. Attention-phobia?

Scrumbled egg

Scrambled egg with bread crumbs? Scrambled bread crumbs with egg?

Beautiful moon

My cheap camera-phone can't do it justice, but believe me when I say that this was a beautiful full moon on December 14, 2005. Yup, quite old but I was just able to upload it now. Somebody got a new notebook so I get to use the old and defective one. Well I'm not complaining; I didn't spend a centavo anyway. I'm thinking this can help me in my blogging. I can capture pictures in my cheap camera-phone, send it via IR to "my" notebook, write a draft blog post, go to the office and use its fast internet connection to upload the whole thing in my blog. Besides this, I'm thinking of making this notebook a glorified, expensive book. That's just a fancy way of saying I'm using it to read all the ebooks sitting around in my office and home PC's. Yup, I thank them for giving, well actually they're just lending me, their old and defective notebook. Sure, it takes luck to turn the whole thing on, but like I've said it's free. Beggars can't be choosers.

Sidenote:
Somebody is asking me to send my resume. Something about a blogger position with lucrative compensation. Now, where did I hide my resume? Time to search for it, update it, and send it to them. I just might jump ship (or is it 'jump ships' because there are two ships involved) if the offer is lucrative enough.

Gain-loss competition

In the office we have what we call the Gain-Loss Competition, otherwise known as the glorified lose (or gain) weight new year resolution. It's a competition born out of year-after-year of unfulfilled new year resolutions. At least that's the reason why I joined the competition. I have always known that I'm overweight. There was even a time when a BMI (body-mass index) chart called me obese. I already lost 20 lbs since my last physical exam, and I target to lose 20 lbs more for the competition. We are evaluated every fifteen days, and my performance for the first two evaluations are dismal. Maybe because I'm not taking the competition seriously. True enough, I now watch what I eat, but I still don't exercise. I don't know. I guess I'm too lazy to exercise. It's not over yet, though. The competition runs through April 29, 2006. So I still have plenty of time to catch up. Maybe I'll buy one of those Thai-bo (spelling?) videos and sort of dance myself to fitness. :-)

There are seven of us who are competing. One is in gaining category, while the rest of us are in losing category. The biggest loser or gainer at the end of every fifteen days is declared the winner for that round. Each of us contributes 250 pesos for the pot money, so the winner gets 1,500 pesos. Not bad, eh? Can you blame me if I want to win a round or two?

Update:
Matt says it's "Tae bo" for "tae kwon do" and "boxing". I don't know where I got Thai-bo. It's just two letters away from Thai Bowl. Hehe... :-)

somewhere i have never travelled

I ran across this poem in Fr. Jboy's February 12 homily posted at his blog site. I think I'll memorize this poem. It will be a good exercise for my brain and for my heart. Parts of this poem were read by Vincent (Ron Pearlman) in the album version of the theme of Beauty and the Beast TV series (1987-1990).

somewhere i have never traveled
e.e. cummings

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

Another one of those idle moments...

Yoda and Darth Vader unite to guard my defective 4-in-1 SAP Calendar. Another one of those idle moments at the office.

Pure tragedy

What happened last Saturday at the Ultra is pure tragedy. People who were lining up, some for about a week, for a chance to win prizes got injured and 71 got killed. The police, organizers, and victims are pointing fingers. The blame game has began. I don't know who's to blame by law. But beyond what is legal, those who pushed and shoved and stepped upon other people are to be blamed.

Don't give up on us

It's a well-made movie sprinkled with cheezy lines. Good thing they have excellent actors leading it. This is the type of movie that I'll probably miss if not for my officemates spontaneity. :-) Here's my favorite lines, in English:

If I hug you, will it be our happy ending?
What if you realize that you're sad?
What if I can't bear to see you sad?
You were right, all along. It's not that easy.

Hehe... It's been a while since the last time I blogged. For about a month my schedule had been 7:30 AM to 4:30 PM go to work, 5:30 PM to 8:30 PM attend linux training at CU. I reach home at 10:00 PM most of the time. There's not much time left to write.

If it's Sunday

If it's really Sunday, then what am I doing here at the office, all alone? Why to check up on the hardware diagnostics running on one of our mail servers, of course. It's been running since last night and I thought I'd get the results this afternoon. Well, it's still running and I think far from wrapping up. Guess I'll get the results tomorrow. Hopefully...

The Lady in the Park

The Lady in the Park

Her face dimmed with years of broken promises
Her eyes, weary of searching
Her hair, every bit of shine gone
The lady walks toward the park

Her white shirt, loose but doesn't flutter
Her blue jeans, faded like the picture in its pocket
Her shoes saw enough walking, so tired
The lady enters the park

All past is behind her now
Decision for the future is made
As the lady enters the park
This warm lazy afternoon

She walks toward the fountain
Full of hope, joy may come
Is she meeting somebody?
And will he come?

Briskly yet unsure she walks the path
To her left, children are laughing and singing
To her right, couples are hugging, talking
Her future surrounds her

The lady reaches the fountain
Pauses and turns towards the gate
Eyes scanning the busy streets
Will he come?

Her left palm grasping the right
Little steps forward
And little steps back
She hopes he'd come

This warm and lazy afternoon
Even as the park brims with happiness
One lady is about to add hers still
To the park that's already filled.

The story behind the poem...

Just in case you actually care to know how I came to write this poem. It was November 28, 2005, Monday, special holiday, no work. I was bored, so I decided to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the third time. This time around I thought I'd see it in SM City Cinemas, the only theater in the city that would give justice to effects-laden films.

Anyway, my second ride (I need to take two jeepney rides to go to SM City), got stuck in traffic just as it approached Carmen Bridge. The jeepney sat in front of Gaston Park (near the St. Augustine Cathedral). The jeepney didn't have any sound system, and I'm just its fourth passenger. I was seated in such a way that I faced the park. I could clearly see it. What else could I do, but to take in its beauty. I thought it was a very beautiful park, not just because of its layout, but also because it was filled with happy people. I could see children playing, couples sitting on the benches talking, and some friends having their pictures taken in front of the fountain. It was then that I noticed this lady, maybe around her late thirties, walking towards the park. She was very anxious of something. Her right palm was grasping her left. She'd squeeze them quickly and then rub them a bit. Of course I really didn't know the reason for her anxiety, or if she was even truly anxious, perhaps it was just my imagination. Traffic was already flowing as she was about to enter the park. I wondered why she was there. My imagination kicked in and I was already writing the poem in my mind before I reached the theater. I guess you'll never know when and where an inspiration for writing pops out. We must have our imagination always at the ready.

Knowing me, knowing you

Sometimes I get blinded by emotions that I feel and act like she's a close friend when in fact we're nothing more than mere acquaintances. I can already picture myself watching the upcoming movie Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe all alone. Perhaps if I make it clear to her that it doesn't have to be a date if she doesn't want to; that I just want some company to watch the movie with. Or maybe I should start taking my lunch in the mess hall and meet some new friends, friends that also like to watch movies, or perhaps love to sing karaoke. :-) I have lots of friends in our department, unfortunately most of us in the MIS department are males, none of the females are single, and none besides me love to watch movies in the theaters (most watch them at home, DVD).

It's hard to be an introvert and a movie-lover at the same time. I don't mind watching movie alone, actually, but it really isn't as enjoyable with company, especially comedies and romantic comedies. My transfer to the Technical Support division is helping me a bit because now I have to interact with lots of people at work, unlike before in Development where I mostly interact with my boss and my lean, mean, green-screen program editor (SEU). I'm not saying that all programmers are introvert, of course. But when you are a programmer and an introvert, like me, people around you can start disappearing and you wouldn't even notice it until your network connection is unplugged. Only then will you ask, "Where is everybody?" Sounds funny, but it's true. And when you're like that but still loves to go out and watch movies in theaters, well, let's just say that life becomes complicated. The mere process of asking someone to go with you becomes a daunting task. Add the fact that you are attracted to her and the task becomes almost impossible. But I still manage to gather enough strength and courage to ask...sometimes. And when she rejects the invitation, it hurts.

Okay enough with this mushy stuff. I don't want you throwing up all over my blog. Hehe... I'm not usually like this. And sorry about the overuse and confusing use of pronouns. I don't like to name names, yet. :-) See you around.

Year-end list (sort of)

I'm making this simple list just so that I can start the ball rolling in my blog in 2006. Happy new year, everyone.

Event of the Year

I remember staying up late one Saturday evening, up until one in the morning the next day, just flipping channels between CNN International, Fox News, and BBC World. They were covering the dying Pope John Paul II. Even though I was at home, sitting in front of the TV, it felt like I was there with the crowd in St. Peter's Square, that I was with them praying for the pope. I slept for about five hours, waking up at around six in the morning, switched on CNN and saw that the headline was already "Karol Wojtyla: 1920-2005" or something like that.

I still have to get to used to seeing Benedict XVI celebrating the papal masses. It has always been Pope John Paul II my entire life until April of 2005.

Favorite Books

My favorite books, among those that I bought in 2005, are Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by JK Rowling and Peter and the Starcatchers by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. I've blog about this two books already, so I'm not going to repeat my reasons for liking them.

Favorite Movie

My favorite movie of 2005, among those that I've seen in theaters, is Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I'd like to say it's one of those cool-sounding independent titles, but alas no. It is the Goblet of Fire. This is the only movie, so far, that I've seen in theaters three times in three different theaters. Honorable mention goes to Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, which I saw twice in two different theaters.

Least Favorite Movie

My least favorite movie of 2005, among those that I've seen in theaters, is Chicken Little. Not only did I have to travel thousands of kilometers to see it in the only theater in the city that I thought would do it justice (SM City), I also have to see a children's movie alone because I don't have children and because the she wouldn't watch a movie with me without the them. :-) And for what? For a movie that is too short to be worthy of the admission price and a story too for-TV to be a movie? Disney is not Pixar.

DVD

I haven't bought a lot of DVD's in 2005, opting instead to borrow from a co-worker titles that I'd like to see. My favorite last year is the Mr. Bean Collection. I have seen some of the episodes five times in TV prior to watching it on DVD, but I still get lots of laugh-out-loud moments out of them. My least favorite is The Final Cut starring Robin Williams. I liked the premise of the movie, but the ending did not satisfy me. It felt like I wasted my time building anticipation for an ending that never came. Yes, in a way it can be called a movie that did not end.

Favorite TV Programs

The Amazing Race (AXN and Studio 23) and lots of sitcom. These are my favorite TV shows in 2005. This lots of sitcom include Friends, Married to the Kellys, Everybody Loves Raymond, King of Queens, Becker, and Yes, Dear. All are shown in Star World cable channel. For local TV, I like Game Ka Na Ba and Wowowee, all of which are from ABS-CBN.