Archive for the ‘Ramdom thoughts’ Category

MISSED

Posted: December 29, 2010 in Media, Ramdom thoughts

Amidst this busy day in the newsroom, and under the pouring rain while shooting a spiel in EDSA, I suddenly miss my Kabataan News Network (KNN Manila) family.

I miss my partner (in crime!) Nicai de Guzman, and our sometimes-funny-most-of-the-time-naughty stories.

Nicai and I during our hosting stint in SM-UNICEF's Drink for Two. (May 2008)

I miss Danz Maderazo and his light resemblance, and his infamous talent to mimic Jessica Soho.

Danz and I in one of our snack times as KNN reporters. (May 2008)

I miss Angelo Supe and his poker face, and his eloquent lines that make the entire group ROFL.

Angelo and I during our "tambay" in Probe Productions. (June 2008)

I miss Hanna Jaber and her motherly nature, and her random lost moments that are effortlessly funny.

Hanna and I during a KNN workshop in Astoria Plaza (February 2009)

They are my closest (COF!), but of course, I also miss other reporters and our bosses as well. (Hi Ate Ros, Ate Yas and Tita Nancy!)

KNN, as I’ve said many times way back, contributed alot to my growth as a youth and student, and in my pursuit in life.

I always wish for more good times with KNN…

Interviews for Population and Development story and I during our visit in Rodriguez Landfill. (July 2009)

I know there is  always one. Me excited.

WHY I LOVE THE RAIN (repost)

Posted: November 23, 2010 in Ramdom thoughts

(Originally posted in my disputed Multiply account. There are changes for clarity and brevity.)

May 17, ’08 2:42 AM

It’s been a week of deadly rains during noontimes and it’s a nuisance for almost everyone. I heard a weather forecaster discussed about the strange weather we are experiencing right now– a “sandwich typhoon” or whatever you wanna call it.

Many complain how rain makes the road muddy and how it disrupts our daily activities. But despite of those, I love the rain. It’s like a break for very humid days we have, also a moment for plants and trees to relax. It’s somehow a reminder for me to slow down and listen to the sound of raindrops that falls on the rooftop. It allows me to draw my name and dreams in the windowpane of the car and sketch my future paths on it. It gives me a soothing relief away from this fast-phased world.

When it rains, I take time to watch the children chasing the flowing waters and the oldies sip their coffee in their terraces. It makes me feel the simplicity and stillness of life. It teaches me to love the things around me. In the Bible, rain is a symbol of abundance and mercy from God. That’s why I love rain, it gives me a promise that after the pouring, there’s a clearer sky above.

I’ll get by.

No photoshop used! Taken in 2007 during a beach trip in Lingayen, Pangasinan

I LOVED YOU FIRST

Posted: November 21, 2010 in Ramdom thoughts, School

“And the history books forgot about us and the Bible didn’t mention us, the Bible didn’t mention us. Not even once.”

Regina Spektor’s song “Samson” remains a mystery for me but I keep on singing and playing it since the first time I heard it. A forum in Yahoo says it means two lovers and the boy suffers from an unknown disease so Samson “went back to bed, not much hair left on his head and ate his slice of wonderbread…” The wonderbread is the medicine. He is so weak with his sickness that he “couldn’t bring the columns down, we couldn’t destroy a single one.” It is an incurable, unknown disease that “the history books forgot about us and the Bible didn’t mention us, the Bible didn’t mention us. Not even once.” These premises somehow convince me that it gave me another perspective to the song. The simile is quick and witty. It is a seemingly sweet love song but it turns out to be the most tragic one.

One of my professors in this last semester of my undergraduate life in UP is Prof. Victor “YouKnowWho” Avecilla. It’s been his habit that during the very first day in class, all his students would introduce themselves and share something about their love life and for the second time that he became my professor, it happened to me and our batch. When it was my turn, I didn’t want to make things complicated that he would question every single detail like an NBI interrogator so with regard to my love life, I just said, “I am currently not in a relationship and I have no plans to have one soon.” He asked why. I answered, “Sir, I am too busy with my thesis.” He gave a worth remembering remarks that you wouldn’t hear often from an “Avecilla” who is notorious through the years. He said, “You should not be too busy to love. When love knocks at your door and you don’t entertain it, it will hardly come back again.” It’s been two sessions of our Broadcast Ethics class that he is kind and calm and I am hoping the same in the remaining months.

Deep inside my mind, I wish I could share my ideas to him about love and life. I want him to know that I am full of love from my family and those that come and go in the past, yet, I still feel empty and unloved at times.

I want him to understand that life is good and I’m having fun (sounds like the Bambini Cologne ad. LOL). But the goodness and fun in this life is never constant and when I remember my childhood, all I can see is memories related to rain.

I want him to listen that I am not a “flirt”. I am serious and hopeless romantic. I am longing for that one, sweet, stable relationship that no matter what temptations come our way, our love for each other will still matter. Someone who is afraid to lose me and is there to celebrate life with me is enough.

I want to agree with him that this lifetime is not too long and sooner or later, one by one, will go to eternity inevitably. I want to know his opinion with the things I experience that I never chose to, like, where is the thin dividing line between God’s control and God’s gift of free-will?

I want his funny joke if I ask what will happen to Jaime Sullivan and Landon James if the former didn’t die.

I have a lot of things to say when he said that, but I opted to remain silent because I know that arguing with him will lead to nowhere. A nod is enough to say that I share the same thoughts with him and although he is much older than me and he knows a lot about his field more than me, our thoughts are never far from each other. I’m afraid that I am too mature theoretically but immature in practice.

I still believe that there’s someone out there for me that despite my immaturities and insecurities would still love me because he knows me through and through.

As of this writing, I just want to put my heart and self into rest. I just want to finish my thesis with satisfaction and graduate on April 17, 2011.

Love comes in different forms and sometimes, through letting go.

During UP MCO's photoshoot. This is what happens when you write your thesis in Jejenese (the language of Jejemons)

 

 

“Time won’t flow everyone knows, when the pain fades away. Dreams won’t die, tears in our eyes. You’ve got to hold your head up high.” High, The Speaks

 

It’s a 2-minute phone call in the middle of the night and everything is over. It seems like an unstoppable damnation and inevitable aggravation. After the post-break up “praning” moments and that long, cold and sleepless night, I’ve finally made up my mind.

In past relationships I had, I was always the one who’s being left alone; but this is something that I should not be ashamed about, atleast I loved truly, because in abounding love comes fulfilment and happiness. I am often told that I should not give everything and reserve something for myself but it is my joy to love wholly and be loved in return. I can’t embrace and kiss someone with reservations for others or myself. For me, it’s unfair and a way of cheating. I do not and cannot waste every moment when I can show my love and admiration. Of course, with this belief, comes its own consequence, when it is time to let go and part ways, I always feel that I am the losing part. I do not care if it is a love unreciprocated, atleast I gave that person all the reasons not to leave. Masochistic as they say but I’d rather be the hurted one than the hurting one.

Pain and being broken-hearted is always a part of loving but a close friend I called last night told me that most of the time, it is not the heart that is broken, it is the ego instead. Maybe, I am just caught off-guard, that after all that happened and efforts given, things boil down to this and the natural rush of post-relationship thoughts and scenarios hover me, making clouds of disbelief and confusions over me.

Regardless if these realizations were brought by bitterness or eventual maturity, I don’t care. What matters is I am half-way saved from another sleepless and crying night. In this clear and serene mind, I realized that it’s not worth it for people who have guts to turn their backs on us. Despite of what happened and what will still happen, I am still optimistic about love. It is after all meeting one jerk after another until that one fateful day comes when you will meet that same, old hopeless romantic someone and will celebrate love and life with you and will stick with you until your ripe, old age.

It’s really nice to be in love, such a heavenly and rare feeling in this world, but we all fear the day when it is time to let go, it is the hardest part actually, but I realized that the end of love is not the end of life. We should bear in mind that love always ends for a reason and leaves with a lesson.

I know you know this blog. This is even bookmarked in your desktop and laptop. I don’t wish that you would read this but just in case you do, this is for you. Much as I want to text and call you, I can’t find a single reason to. My heart wants it but my mind hinders it. This is the last time you’ll hear things from me. I just want to say thank you. Thank you for investing something we know both of us cannot return– the time, we generously shared. Thank you for all the nights we’ve spent in entirety just talking over the phone. Thank you for the times that even when you’re eating, sitting in the toilet and almost asleep, you would still want to talk to me and hear stories from me no matter how non-sense those were. Thank you for entrusting me the most private and personal stories of your life. Thank you for the songs we dedicated and made as ringtones of each other. Thank you for staying over the line until both of us falls asleep. Thank you for staying no matter how awkward and bad the feeling and moment was. Thank you for the sweet moments I will forever remember. Beyond thank you’s, I want to say sorry. Sorry for all the immaturities and insecurities you’ve experienced with me. Sorry for not reciprocating at times the love and efforts you show to me. Again, thank you and sorry. This break-up is neither a fault of one nor the fault of both of us. Circumstances led to this and no matter how much I still want you back, I just can’t deny the nagging truth that it is over. I know we both learn from this in many ways seen and unseen. There are no goodbyes, only “see you soon” so I still hope to see you again, and by then, we are stronger, hotter, and alot happier.

TOPOPHILIA AND CHILDHOOD (Repost)

Posted: September 29, 2010 in Ramdom thoughts

(This article was originally posted in my Multiply account dated October 2, 2008. The text is edited for clarity and coherence.)

I remember my Geography class three years ago where we defined the word topophilia. It is the love and attachment to places. Since then, I knew what always distracts me all these years.

I miss old places that were once a part of my life. The vacant lot where I used to play when I was a child, the old subdivision where we once lived, my kindergarten and elementary school, the childhood alleyway where my parents and I used to walk going to Bayan (Gil Fernando Avenue, Marikina City), and the market itself. I can still recall how I cried and insisted to buy food and toys I see along the way. I remember how they made my day complete, that after a tedious morning jogging with my dad, or a simple gala with mom, they would brought me to Jollibee or Mc Donald’s to compensate the day.

I miss my Tita’s house where I used to sleep-over often. I miss her backyard full of sunflowers in a hot summer season.

I am the only child of the family and I am raised well. I don’t have the right to be spoiled-brat because we are not wealthy. I learned to live a simple and solitary childhood life expect for some subdivision friends who visit me in our garage. I miss the store where we used to hang-out and make stories.

I can’t explain why almost all my childhood memories were related to rain. I miss my old room where I used to spend rainy days in just staring the wet pavement and trees on the street. I miss shouting at the top of my lungs under the raging yet sweet rain. I miss writing my name, my crush’s name and all my feelings and dreams in the misty windowpane.

I miss these places and the happiness attached to those. I miss the people as well. Some are distant now, some still keep in touch.

Everyday, things seem to be monotonous. I wake up, go to school and church, meet old and new friends and lie in my bed again. But as I look back, everything is different. That’s why I miss these things.

Today, there are no more parents to treat me each time I am tired. Now, it’s harder to admit that you like someone. No more playmates who knock in the garage gate. No more alleyway where my parents and I used to walk, now, I walk alone in a cold, moonlit night. No more Tita because she has her own children now. No more sunflowers because my Tito who plants those is working abroad.

No more chances to dance under the rain. If there are, rare.

I miss my childhood days, but I know I can’t be forever young. All I can do is to always look back and get inspiration from my cheerful past. Be grateful to many people who became part of it. Work hard today. Dream big and keep the optimism and faith for a bright future.

DISENCHANTMENTS

Posted: September 16, 2010 in Ramdom thoughts

September 15, 2010

Mommy: Dad, may sakit ‘yung bata. May lagnat.

Daddy: Sige, ‘wag mo na muna papasukin.

No, this isn’t a retro talk. Mom just called Dad early today. I was not able to go to all my classes today because I have a fever. I am always a sick kid, yes; my parents still call me “bata” or kid. Mom serves me all the food I want and all I can do is lie in my bed and stare at the ceilings. It is my first time to see that my room ceiling is not really white but mocha white and the intersecting lines of dark brown is not plain 2-D but has carvings like those of old pillars of Rome. I hardly pay attention to such small details in ordinary days because whenever I go to bed, it is either my eyes are already closed or I am too pre-occupied.

I open all my windows; get a chair and sit on it. I see now our veranda and the street. The sunlight kisses my skin for the first time today. I missed it. It reminds me that it is beautiful to be alive and I missed this kind of detachment to everything. But the sky starts to darken and the thunders roar. The breeze is chilling and droplets of rain start to fall from the heaven so I close all the windows again. Back in my bed, beyond my new discoveries about my room ceiling, I now see things differently. I miss schooling and the usually busy day in school but I miss the silence more, away from everyone. I know this is not everyday so I have to enjoy this day.

Before, I hate staying at home especially when Dad is around but things work together for the good and now, as I grow up, amidst all the problems, frustrations and limitations that our family is facing now, I love my Mom and Dad. They are the best few things I have in this world.

Yes, the very thought of singleness is lonely and frightening but I do not need to beg for others’ love because I am full of it since the day that I was born.

In the world that is full of disenchantments, love is perennial as the grass as the poem Desiderata says. So I will not give up this rare possession I have, and I am glad to spread it to everyone.

Celebrate life!

STRANDED

Posted: July 13, 2010 in Ramdom thoughts, School

FACTS:

1. It rains.

2. I have no umbrella.

3. I am alone in the CMC lobby.

It’s like a de ja vu and beyond this, a routine.

Living in the Centennial Dorm is a comfy thing. Now, I don’t need to chase with traffic jams along Cubao-Aurora or catch the last terminal trip going home. I don’t regularly hear my parents’ endless reminders and pre-judgments. But somehow, I miss them. I am not really into living alone. As the only child of the family, I was really sheltered and pampered. Though I’m always nostalgic about my childhood, I completely know the fact that I am a grown-up now. I need to bear this. Today, there’s no Daddy to fetch and bring me home and no Mommy to cook a priceless supper.

This “mechanical” UP life kills me softly and the only clinging reason why I am still doing this is for the love of knowledge and the thought that I have a lot to reciprocate to. Maybe someday, all these confusions, grudges, frustrations and fear will come to clarity and fruition so I should not falter.

The rain will end tonight and I will eventually get “home” but these feelings will remain. Yes, I blog a alot about the rain but nothing can replace the feeling of dancing under the rain.

It’s euphoric and sensational, and the tears? Nobody can see.