Isa kang malaking ganito:
Sapol sa noo!
AHAHAHAHAHA
Para sa Iyo. Oo, Ikaw!
Alam kong binabasa mo ito. At ito lang ang masasabi ko.
Isa kang malaking ganito:
Sapol sa noo!
AHAHAHAHAHA
Isa kang malaking ganito:
Sapol sa noo!
AHAHAHAHAHA
Two
A man offered to pay a sum of money to his twelve-year-old daughter if she mowed the lawn. The girl went at the task with great zest and by evening the whole lawn had been beautifully mowed-well, everything except a large uncut patch of grass in one corner.
When the man said he couldn’t pay the sum agreed upon because the whole lawn hadn’t been mowed, the girl said she was ready to forego the money, but would not cut the grass in the patch.
Curious to find out why, he checked the uncut patch. There, right in the centre of the patch, sat a large toad. The girl had been too tender-hearted to run over it with the lawn-mower.
Where there is love, there is disorder.
Perfect order would make the world a graveyard.
"The Prayer of the Frog"
Anthony de Mello
-----
Because we originated from Perfectness, there is an inherent longing in our souls to return to where it came from. And in that search tor the road leading to Perfectness, we encounter other kindred souls willing to accompany us on our sojourn. It does not matter if the path is smooth and easy, or hard and rocky. Neither does it matter whether our companions stay for a short while, or accompany us in the long run. What matters is that we have traveled together, on the Journey towards that destination of Perfectness.
Spices, Star Treks, and Sanrios
In his never-ending quest for his Prince Charming, Eternal Wanderer has had a good share of home runs, near hits, and awful misses. However, this year, he has managed to break a personal record of sorts. He actually found two people he really, really liked. Of course, whether they really, really liked Eternal Wanderer back is another matter altogether. Teehee :P
For those who have been reading the blog of Eternal Wanderer since about the start of the year, Spice is some sort of motif that crops up again and again in his writings. They sort of got together early this year, and that made Eternal Wanderer extremely happy. But alas, some good things come with an expiry date. But nonetheless, he's fond of Spice. He honestly is. He's fond of Spice so much that he still meets up with him whenever Spice is in town. They hang out and do lotsa fun stuff. And Eternal Wanderer will resist the urge to elaborate what the fun stuff is because it's gonna be too TMI-ing again hahahaEternal Wanderer had another close encounter of the faggy kind sometime past half this year. He actually had been chatting with T'Pol for some time already. He found T'Pol to be smart, articulate, if not a bit moody. But most of all, Eternal Wanderer found in T'Pol someone whom he could share, of all things, his love for Star Trek. In Eternal Wanderer's books, pogi points are awarded to any guy who can relate with tachyon fields, warp drives, and Borg hives.
Unfortunately, T'Pol proved to be a tough nut to crack (pun unintended). He was still traumatized from a badly-ended relationship, and he had all his guards raised up. Eternal Wanderer tried his darnest best to slowly chip away the defenses, but sometimes, even the best isn't good enough. He found the door shut closed on him one afternoon, so he had no recourse but to go on his separate way.
However, Eternal Wanderer is a cockeyed (read: keeps an eye on the cock) optimist. He still hasn't given up on his search for true lust love and Prince Charming. And he has been rewarded for patiently scouring high and low. He now finds himself thingamajiging with Hello Kitty. Pussies may not be Eternal Wanderer's cup of tea anymore, but this different kind of pussy is proving to be irresistible. He is happy with Hello Kitty, and hopes that Hello Kitty is happy with him, too.
Can Eternal Wanderer finally write "The End" to his search?
Abangan ang susunod na kabanata!
Philippines, My Philippines
Remember my uncle who visited sometime last month?
He's a columnist for an online newspaper, and wrote about his recent trip to the Philippines here, here, and here.
I understand where he's coming from. He's been staying in the States for almost a good four decades or so. Chances are, his memories of the Philippines are frozen in time. And I don't blame him if he sees what he left all those years ago radically changed. That's putting it mildly.
It is true that many places in the Philippines, especially in the highly urbanized centers, may not be pleasing to the eyesight. It is also equally true that the socio-political system in the country is skewed to favor those who have the money and those who have the power. Everywhere, there is graft and corruption. Everywhere, there is filth, squalor, and poverty.
That is the life for most people living here in the Philippines, and may take several generations to undo the damage we ourselves have brought upon the country. For if we have not remained apathetic and indifferent to the system, then we might have not found ourselves in the mess that we are in. If each and one of us asked, "What can I do for my motherland?", perhaps we would not find ourselves being apologetic for the ills and conditions of our society.
-----
My Tito was here for a scant two weeks or so, and most of the time, he was staying in Metro Manila. But Manila is not the Philippines, and the Philippines is definitely not Manila. Sure, Manila is just like any other big city in the world,: fast, rude, noisy, and polluted. However, if he only ventured out further than the city and its surrounding environs, he would've had a better grasp of what the country is all about. He would've experienced the serene white beaches, the breath-taking vistas of mountains and plains, and most especially the genuine character of the Filipino people. Tell me, who would not be charmed by generous hospitality offered to you in the countryside? Who would not be touched with if they share with you the meager resources they have? Who would not be charmed by the warm reception and the casual conversations you encounter in the provinces?
-----
I am lucky to have been around the world. I, too, am lucky to have gone around the Philippines. My mom always said, "Wag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan." She made sure I familiarized myself with my own country even before I stepped foot on foreign soil. Too bad my Tito, in many instances, experienced the bad part of the proverbial two-sided coin.
So at the risk of sounding defiant, I will say it out say it aloud.
There is no place like the Philippines. I am proud to call it home.
He's a columnist for an online newspaper, and wrote about his recent trip to the Philippines here, here, and here.
I understand where he's coming from. He's been staying in the States for almost a good four decades or so. Chances are, his memories of the Philippines are frozen in time. And I don't blame him if he sees what he left all those years ago radically changed. That's putting it mildly.
It is true that many places in the Philippines, especially in the highly urbanized centers, may not be pleasing to the eyesight. It is also equally true that the socio-political system in the country is skewed to favor those who have the money and those who have the power. Everywhere, there is graft and corruption. Everywhere, there is filth, squalor, and poverty.
That is the life for most people living here in the Philippines, and may take several generations to undo the damage we ourselves have brought upon the country. For if we have not remained apathetic and indifferent to the system, then we might have not found ourselves in the mess that we are in. If each and one of us asked, "What can I do for my motherland?", perhaps we would not find ourselves being apologetic for the ills and conditions of our society.
-----
My Tito was here for a scant two weeks or so, and most of the time, he was staying in Metro Manila. But Manila is not the Philippines, and the Philippines is definitely not Manila. Sure, Manila is just like any other big city in the world,: fast, rude, noisy, and polluted. However, if he only ventured out further than the city and its surrounding environs, he would've had a better grasp of what the country is all about. He would've experienced the serene white beaches, the breath-taking vistas of mountains and plains, and most especially the genuine character of the Filipino people. Tell me, who would not be charmed by generous hospitality offered to you in the countryside? Who would not be touched with if they share with you the meager resources they have? Who would not be charmed by the warm reception and the casual conversations you encounter in the provinces?
-----
I am lucky to have been around the world. I, too, am lucky to have gone around the Philippines. My mom always said, "Wag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan." She made sure I familiarized myself with my own country even before I stepped foot on foreign soil. Too bad my Tito, in many instances, experienced the bad part of the proverbial two-sided coin.
So at the risk of sounding defiant, I will say it out say it aloud.
There is no place like the Philippines. I am proud to call it home.
My Favorite Comic Storylines: Kingdom Come
Imagine a future where a new generation of super-heroes conduct themselves no better than super-villains. Imagine a future where the line between good and evil is blurred beyond distinction. Imagine a future where the old guard is pushed aside, and chaos reigns supreme. Imagine a future where an aging preacher's prophetic visions can lead to the world's apocalyptic destruction or its ultimate salvation.
Mark Waid and Alex Ross' chef-d'oeuvre moves forward 20 years from the present, into the time where Superman and his colleagues have either turned their backs at the world or operate under the cloak of subterfuge. In their stead, a new generation of super-heroes emerge, more violent and heavy-handed than their predecessors ever were. Wonder Woman coaxes a tragedy-laden Superman out of retirement to lead the restoration of peace and order throughout the world. Slowly, with the help of their now-aged colleagues and protegees, they keep the new batch of super-heroes and super villains in line by literally muscling their way through.
Unfortunately, their totalitarian approach is viewed with much suspicion by both non-powered colleagues and villains. The faction led by Batman insists that the methodology of Superman's Justice League is no different than what he is battling against. Luthor and his cohorts, on the other hand, prepare to counter the Justice League with their most formidable weapon: a Mr. Mind-controlled Captain Marvel.
The great battle meets head-on as Luthor unleashes Captain Marvel on the Gulag, the fort where the Justice League has incarcerated the super-villains. In the escalating melee, the head of the United Nations decides to aim a nuclear warhead to obliterate the meta-humans --- heroes and villains alike --- once and for all. It is only through the valiant self-sacrifice of Captain Marvel that some meta-humans survive the outcome of the great holocaust.
An enraged Superman returns to the United Nations, followed the surviving meta-humans. He is then made to realize the complex situation of masked crusading: that they cannot live in the world and live above and apart from it. In the ensuing epilogue, poignant scenes are depicted on how they fully integrate themselves as members of a kinder and better human/meta-human society.
The Kingdom Come whole saga is complex, rich, and multi-layered in its approach to narration. Waid frames it within the perspective of Norman McCay, an aging minister plagued with prophetic visions of a catastrophic future. He is guided through the story by the Specter, who acts both as a commentator and judge to the unfolding events. But the Biblical allusions do not stop with the avenging angel imagery. The entire narrative is replete with Biblical references, specifically to those of the Book of Revelations. It's hard press to miss the symbolism of Superman as the militant Messiah, the savior who shall bring war in order to make peace.
Equally stupendous is Ross' contribution to the series. His painted artwork gives a stunning feel to the series' visual design. Each panel was of photo-realistic quality; reading through series is akin to viewing a very gorgeous album. It was my first encounter with Alex Ross' work, and I've been a fan ever since.
All in all, the series is certainly a worthwhile read, both as a comic book series and as a literary work of fiction. It most surely will stand the test of time because of the relevant themes and situations presented. Perhaps this what really classic comic story lines are: they still remain pertinent to the reader's experience years after they were written.
The Haunting, an Advanced Re-Post for Holloween
I was lost in thought as I was walking around the neighborhood well past midnight. I have always taken pleasure in these midnight walks. The solitariness of this nocturnal activity has consistently provided a certain measure of comfort; the relaxed pace of the strolling helping to clear away the sticky cobwebs in my thoughts. This particular occasion was turning out to be no different from what I have done in the past. Or so I thought.
It was a hot and balmy night, and the muted roll of the distant thunder was an ominous sign of an impending thunderstorm. I momentarily stopped to wipe away the glisten of sweat gathering on my brows. Then, from afar, I heard a dog bay mournfully. I looked up with a start, and immediately realized something wasn't right.
I took a wrong turn. I didn't know where I was.
The street was unfamiliar, partially hidden in the recess of dark shadows. A nearby lamp post was dying, its flickering light casting an eerie glow on the surrounding. The slow baying of the dog had stopped. The sudden silence was jarring, almost deafening. I felt the heaviness of the atmosphere suddenly weigh on me, so I decided to walk down the gloomy street in a more hurried pace.
My heart was already starting to pound when I saw it.
-----
It was all but a faint shimmer at first. Gradually, the light coalesced into a diaphanous figure. I couldn't help but gasp in chilling recognition.
"I know you!" I uttered in a quivering voice. "Why do you still come before me? Why are you doing this to me?"
It remained wordless and silent; its pale eyes stared directly at mine. Slowly, it raised its ghostly hand and beckoned to me.
"No! I will not come near you, do you hear me?!" My voice was rising almost to a fevered pitch. "I have already wrestled with you. I have banished you. Why do you come back to haunt me?"
My shirt was drenched, sweat mixed with fear and anger at the phantasm before me. I remained obstinate and defiant in my stance. When it sensed that I absolutely refused to approach, it started to go towards me, plodding in its movement. I saw its translucent lips opening, forming voiceless words I could strangely understand. I shivered uncontrollably at what it said.
I am you, and you are me. We are inevitably linked to each other by your decisions in the past, the actions taken, and the choices not made. You cannot exorcise me. You cannot deny me. But what I offer you is peace, Free yourself from the shackles of what was, and the anxieties of what might have been. Accept me, and you will be granted the gift of peace. Accept me, and I shall be granted the gift of peace.
I closed my eyes, and sighed a deep breath as the phantom drew closer and closer.
-----
My eyes were still closed when I felt the first raindrops on my face. The rain had started to fall, and soon, the full fury of the thunderstorm was unleashed upon me. It was as if the heavens was one with my catharsis. I had taken it all in; now, the rain was washing away all the grimy doubts and apprehensions built over time. When I finally opened my yes, I knew that the ghost would no longer be there, and that I would not find myself lost anymore.
As I made my way towards home in the rain, tranquility nestled within my soul.
-----
Why is it that the ghost of what-might-have-been suddenly haunts us at the most inopportune moment? Will we constantly berate ourselves for indecisions in the past and opportunities lost? Contentment, it seems, is as fleeting as the moment that was let by.
It was a hot and balmy night, and the muted roll of the distant thunder was an ominous sign of an impending thunderstorm. I momentarily stopped to wipe away the glisten of sweat gathering on my brows. Then, from afar, I heard a dog bay mournfully. I looked up with a start, and immediately realized something wasn't right.
I took a wrong turn. I didn't know where I was.
The street was unfamiliar, partially hidden in the recess of dark shadows. A nearby lamp post was dying, its flickering light casting an eerie glow on the surrounding. The slow baying of the dog had stopped. The sudden silence was jarring, almost deafening. I felt the heaviness of the atmosphere suddenly weigh on me, so I decided to walk down the gloomy street in a more hurried pace.
My heart was already starting to pound when I saw it.
-----
It was all but a faint shimmer at first. Gradually, the light coalesced into a diaphanous figure. I couldn't help but gasp in chilling recognition.
"I know you!" I uttered in a quivering voice. "Why do you still come before me? Why are you doing this to me?"
It remained wordless and silent; its pale eyes stared directly at mine. Slowly, it raised its ghostly hand and beckoned to me.
"No! I will not come near you, do you hear me?!" My voice was rising almost to a fevered pitch. "I have already wrestled with you. I have banished you. Why do you come back to haunt me?"
My shirt was drenched, sweat mixed with fear and anger at the phantasm before me. I remained obstinate and defiant in my stance. When it sensed that I absolutely refused to approach, it started to go towards me, plodding in its movement. I saw its translucent lips opening, forming voiceless words I could strangely understand. I shivered uncontrollably at what it said.
I am you, and you are me. We are inevitably linked to each other by your decisions in the past, the actions taken, and the choices not made. You cannot exorcise me. You cannot deny me. But what I offer you is peace, Free yourself from the shackles of what was, and the anxieties of what might have been. Accept me, and you will be granted the gift of peace. Accept me, and I shall be granted the gift of peace.
I closed my eyes, and sighed a deep breath as the phantom drew closer and closer.
-----
My eyes were still closed when I felt the first raindrops on my face. The rain had started to fall, and soon, the full fury of the thunderstorm was unleashed upon me. It was as if the heavens was one with my catharsis. I had taken it all in; now, the rain was washing away all the grimy doubts and apprehensions built over time. When I finally opened my yes, I knew that the ghost would no longer be there, and that I would not find myself lost anymore.
As I made my way towards home in the rain, tranquility nestled within my soul.
-----
Why is it that the ghost of what-might-have-been suddenly haunts us at the most inopportune moment? Will we constantly berate ourselves for indecisions in the past and opportunities lost? Contentment, it seems, is as fleeting as the moment that was let by.
Ang Aking Marikit na Bituin
Wala akong maisip na mai-alay sa iyo kundi itong kundiman na kinanta ko sa isang konsyerto.
At binibigay ko ito dahil ikaw yata ang gustong gawing himig ng aking puso.
P.S. Tulad ko, hindi sya perfect, pero I'm giving it to you in all my honesty and sincerity :)
