Originally started writing this last November 18...
I knew this would happen, a new place with new stuff was somehow gonna get me all sentimental in the end. Actually, sentimental isn't the word, coz that would mean I'm looking back at things in the past, and I haven't been doing much of that lately, thank God. Honest. I've actually managed to get rid of a lot of stuff that have accumulated over a decade on the simple grounds of "sentimental value". But not anymore. I simply had to do away with some things...which ended up to be a lot of things. I probabaly filled out 7 large trash bags before I left with several more stuff I just decided to leave in the room as they were. So I guess I've stopped being sentimental.
So that's what some memories have amounted to...7 large trash bags.
Anyway...
I realize that my current location threatens one of my favorite pastimes; hanging out in SM North Edsa. It's one of the few places on this earth I feel comfortable in that has crowds and masses of people. I can think of a dozen self-psychoanalyses (I'm sure I wrote that wrong) that could explain why that is so, but the most probable one is that sometimes it's nice to be lost in a crowd...and I'm sure I've written about that some time ago. I guess I'm just adjusting to the new environment. I'm used to having most of my daily quirks, habits and comfort zones just a walk or a single ride away. And the people here seem...different. Like I said, I guess I'm still adjusting.
However, I've been keeping busy. And lately I've been able to manage my time quite well. I guess setting up goals can really get some people in focus. I don't even find it a problem anymore to wake up early for class, or probably that's just because I no longer have to traverse the great outdoors just to get to the bathroom. I guess my new room ain't too bad. It's a little quiet at times and still a little empty, but I've got plans to change the latter over time, and as for the former, I'm used to it. Haven't been skipping my meals anymore and I've already been getting some decent amount of sleep.
Hmmm, come to think of it, I'm really just trying to start new habits, or I'm just going back to the old ones (the really old ones). So whether if that's a good thing or a bad thing, only time will tell.
....
"When they are alone they want to be with others, and when they are with others they want to be alone. After all, human beings are like that." -Gertrude Stein
Friday, December 15, 2006
Remembering some nice people...
Back in highschool, I travelled on my own for the first time on a fast craft to Dumagauete for a regional presscon. There was a bit of a storm and the boat was really rocking, so before I knew it, what I had for lunch and dinner were developing an exit strategy into a paper bag. And I rememeber feeling quite cold too. There was a man beside me, a father of two tykes who couldn't sit still and he was trying to calm them down. I was surprised when he handed me a hot cup of milo...or some chocolate drink. I took it and managed to give a little shrug of grattitude coz I was too embarrased. Although I really couldn't hear him very well, he tried to converse at times, as if trying to get my mind of the rocking boat. I have to say, the effort and the hot cup helped.
I knew a friend once who asked me to tell a caller he wasn't around when that caller asked to speak with him. Now, that sorta thing is pretty common, but I was surprised when afterwards he apologised when he asked me to lie. I've never met anyone who's apologised about that at all. Not one, but this guy. For a liar, he seemed to have more respect for people's word than most "non-liars" I know.
Someone my mom knew had their kid taking the same plane I did on the way back to manila. So when we landed, the girl's parents offered me a ride, let me eat at their house, and even gave me a guided tour and trivia about places we passed on the way. They were a nice family, good people. That was the only time I met them.
Then again, there was that little streetgirl who ran after me just to return the P5 coin I dropped.
I was usually always early for school in my elementary days. Often, before classes start, I wouldn't wait inside the room with my classmates but look out from the 3rd floor corridors. My grade 5 adviser would often come to ask me if there was anything wrong, or why I was seemed sad, or why I seemed to think so much. I never got to tell her how much I appreciated her. Now that I think about it, 1995's actually my favorite year of all...so far.
My dad's elementary bestfriend saw me and my bro waiting outside for out parents (we were around 9 and 6 respectively), and he treated us to Coney Island ice cream with chocolate shell covering!!:)
My mom had a friend dying of cancer, I don't know why but she said she liked me though I didn't know her very well. She sent me some chocolates.
I had a classmate once, very humble and intellegent. Soft-spoken and always overlooked...but i guess it didn't bother him. I think his family was poor, but I could see that he was well disciplined. I dunno...people like those are quite rare. And it makes you wonder if they're still the same now as they were then. Some people just have no idea how much they can actually inspire others.
That person who saved my life when I was three. No one else knew but I did.
People who help out whenever the car breaks down by the road.
The cop who didn't want to receive "extra" money for doing his work.
The girl who sat beside me to keep me company. Hmmm...that was on a December too.
Again, back in my elementary days, when the "hit and run" was quite rampant, a friend of mine got run over, but the driver got him to the hospital right away and paid for everything.
....
I miss those days. I was 7, and I'd just go to the field in the late afternoon and watch the varsity at soccer practice. I'd sit and wait for every shot that goes beyond the goal coz then I'd get my chance to kick it back.
I had a friend with me sometimes, it's funny though since I can't exactly remember who it was
....
"In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery and death."- Anne Frank
Back in highschool, I travelled on my own for the first time on a fast craft to Dumagauete for a regional presscon. There was a bit of a storm and the boat was really rocking, so before I knew it, what I had for lunch and dinner were developing an exit strategy into a paper bag. And I rememeber feeling quite cold too. There was a man beside me, a father of two tykes who couldn't sit still and he was trying to calm them down. I was surprised when he handed me a hot cup of milo...or some chocolate drink. I took it and managed to give a little shrug of grattitude coz I was too embarrased. Although I really couldn't hear him very well, he tried to converse at times, as if trying to get my mind of the rocking boat. I have to say, the effort and the hot cup helped.
I knew a friend once who asked me to tell a caller he wasn't around when that caller asked to speak with him. Now, that sorta thing is pretty common, but I was surprised when afterwards he apologised when he asked me to lie. I've never met anyone who's apologised about that at all. Not one, but this guy. For a liar, he seemed to have more respect for people's word than most "non-liars" I know.
Someone my mom knew had their kid taking the same plane I did on the way back to manila. So when we landed, the girl's parents offered me a ride, let me eat at their house, and even gave me a guided tour and trivia about places we passed on the way. They were a nice family, good people. That was the only time I met them.
Then again, there was that little streetgirl who ran after me just to return the P5 coin I dropped.
I was usually always early for school in my elementary days. Often, before classes start, I wouldn't wait inside the room with my classmates but look out from the 3rd floor corridors. My grade 5 adviser would often come to ask me if there was anything wrong, or why I was seemed sad, or why I seemed to think so much. I never got to tell her how much I appreciated her. Now that I think about it, 1995's actually my favorite year of all...so far.
My dad's elementary bestfriend saw me and my bro waiting outside for out parents (we were around 9 and 6 respectively), and he treated us to Coney Island ice cream with chocolate shell covering!!:)
My mom had a friend dying of cancer, I don't know why but she said she liked me though I didn't know her very well. She sent me some chocolates.
I had a classmate once, very humble and intellegent. Soft-spoken and always overlooked...but i guess it didn't bother him. I think his family was poor, but I could see that he was well disciplined. I dunno...people like those are quite rare. And it makes you wonder if they're still the same now as they were then. Some people just have no idea how much they can actually inspire others.
That person who saved my life when I was three. No one else knew but I did.
People who help out whenever the car breaks down by the road.
The cop who didn't want to receive "extra" money for doing his work.
The girl who sat beside me to keep me company. Hmmm...that was on a December too.
Again, back in my elementary days, when the "hit and run" was quite rampant, a friend of mine got run over, but the driver got him to the hospital right away and paid for everything.
....
I miss those days. I was 7, and I'd just go to the field in the late afternoon and watch the varsity at soccer practice. I'd sit and wait for every shot that goes beyond the goal coz then I'd get my chance to kick it back.
I had a friend with me sometimes, it's funny though since I can't exactly remember who it was
....
"In spite of everything I still believe that people are really good at heart. I simply can't build up my hopes on a foundation consisting of confusion, misery and death."- Anne Frank
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
For the past few nights
...the evening sky has been beautiful, and it's a shame coz I don't have the time to just sit down and take it all in. But then again, if I did, it just might remind me of just how solitary I've decided my life to be. So I guess it's just fine as it is.
So far so good. Resolutions are holding up but I don't know for how long, hopefully I don't run out of momentum. I keep telling myself I have to get my life back. No more second guessing. No more arguments. No more endless rhetoric. No more explaining what people won't understand anyway. No one to answer to but God.
There are days when it's so easy. There are days when it isn't. Either way, being busy helps. Having little goals throughout the day keeps you focused. And I need to stay focused. I need to remember... why I'm doing all this. I need to remember what I'm trying to get back.
....
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." -Henry David Thoreau:
...the evening sky has been beautiful, and it's a shame coz I don't have the time to just sit down and take it all in. But then again, if I did, it just might remind me of just how solitary I've decided my life to be. So I guess it's just fine as it is.
So far so good. Resolutions are holding up but I don't know for how long, hopefully I don't run out of momentum. I keep telling myself I have to get my life back. No more second guessing. No more arguments. No more endless rhetoric. No more explaining what people won't understand anyway. No one to answer to but God.
There are days when it's so easy. There are days when it isn't. Either way, being busy helps. Having little goals throughout the day keeps you focused. And I need to stay focused. I need to remember... why I'm doing all this. I need to remember what I'm trying to get back.
....
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." -Henry David Thoreau:
Saturday, November 18, 2006
photographs and words by moi
Artist's Note:
In the 2nd photograph, 3rd paragraph, I'm considering adding "...with crows" right after "...within a field of wheat." Just to make it clear that I am in fact pertaining to the painting by Van Gogh. Some time after he finished the painting, he walked to the middle of the field and shot himself in the chest. He survived and even managed to walk back home only to die weeks after from the self-inflicted damage. He never sold a a single painting in his life, and led a mostly solitary and lonely life. He died with his brother Theo by his side.
Friday, November 10, 2006
Six years is a long time.
...there was once a girl I was in love with for six years. That's about 1/4 the time I've been on this plane of existence, and that's about 10% of the average lifespan a guy is suppose to have on this planet(60 years). Six is also the number of years since the bells inside have stopped tolling for her, and the number of days ago since she got married.
I got the news a little over a week before the official date from my elder brother who was sorta pairing me up with her(an idea he and her brother were playing around with way back when). I wonder if he even ever knew that I really did like her anyway. He adds, "...palahubog raba(the guy's a drunkard)". I didn't really react much to it when I heard it. I found my nonreaction weird, and later on, quite sad too. I mean, here was the girl i could sense was in a room even before my eyes would confirm it, a girl whose most mundane actions and personal details would effortlessly be burnt into my memory, and one who could effectively take away my abilty of speech and all the other silliness on a level that to this day is unsurpassed by any other. And now, zilch! zero! nada, nyet!
I guess I would have wanted to feel a bit sad about it. I think it isn't a good thing when you realize you could actually walk away from things like that or let things die out and fade away eventually to meaninglessness. It's too much control...too much power...too cold.
I'm not making sense...so anyway...
Six is a rather infamous number, especially since it's usually associated with the Devil. From what I know, this is because God's number is 7. And six will always mean it was close to perfect but not quite there. Almost but never. Incomplete. Lacking. I'm not alluding that she reminds me of demons...haha, no. But what I am trying to say is that, by far...nevermind.
I've already given my goodbye a long time ago. Let's leave it at that.
....
"The best love affairs are those we never had." -Norman Lindsay
...there was once a girl I was in love with for six years. That's about 1/4 the time I've been on this plane of existence, and that's about 10% of the average lifespan a guy is suppose to have on this planet(60 years). Six is also the number of years since the bells inside have stopped tolling for her, and the number of days ago since she got married.
I got the news a little over a week before the official date from my elder brother who was sorta pairing me up with her(an idea he and her brother were playing around with way back when). I wonder if he even ever knew that I really did like her anyway. He adds, "...palahubog raba(the guy's a drunkard)". I didn't really react much to it when I heard it. I found my nonreaction weird, and later on, quite sad too. I mean, here was the girl i could sense was in a room even before my eyes would confirm it, a girl whose most mundane actions and personal details would effortlessly be burnt into my memory, and one who could effectively take away my abilty of speech and all the other silliness on a level that to this day is unsurpassed by any other. And now, zilch! zero! nada, nyet!
I guess I would have wanted to feel a bit sad about it. I think it isn't a good thing when you realize you could actually walk away from things like that or let things die out and fade away eventually to meaninglessness. It's too much control...too much power...too cold.
I'm not making sense...so anyway...
Six is a rather infamous number, especially since it's usually associated with the Devil. From what I know, this is because God's number is 7. And six will always mean it was close to perfect but not quite there. Almost but never. Incomplete. Lacking. I'm not alluding that she reminds me of demons...haha, no. But what I am trying to say is that, by far...nevermind.
I've already given my goodbye a long time ago. Let's leave it at that.
....
"The best love affairs are those we never had." -Norman Lindsay
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Tired
...and i should be.
But I don't want to talk about that. Don't want to talk about the past three killer weeks in plates and exams. Don't want to to talk about the first short movie I've ever made, in which we had to complete in 4 days (we were given 3 weeks). Don't want to explain that that was only a result of undependable groupmates which eventually led to a falling out...from 8 group members, to 3 then finally to 5. Don't want to talk about the pressure of just needing to finish the film project on already near impossible terms but still worry about it's quality especially since you're acting in it, you wrote the story and you're directing it as well, not to mention that it is of a mature theme. Don't want to talk about having to resort to using Windows Movie Maker to edit the afforementioned film which is practically like using crayons in a college-level art class. Don't want to talk about getting punched for the first time(although it was an accident and it's nothing my thick skull couldn't handle). Don't want to talk about suffering from the flu and my lack of sleep for over a week now and of finally getting things in order in my room after the storm messed some of my stuff up.
Nope, nada, nein, nyet! Don't want to talk about it. Not a word. I'm too tired... but I still have a lot to do...
....
"Beyond the mountains, there are mountains again." -Haitian proverb
...and i should be.
But I don't want to talk about that. Don't want to talk about the past three killer weeks in plates and exams. Don't want to to talk about the first short movie I've ever made, in which we had to complete in 4 days (we were given 3 weeks). Don't want to explain that that was only a result of undependable groupmates which eventually led to a falling out...from 8 group members, to 3 then finally to 5. Don't want to talk about the pressure of just needing to finish the film project on already near impossible terms but still worry about it's quality especially since you're acting in it, you wrote the story and you're directing it as well, not to mention that it is of a mature theme. Don't want to talk about having to resort to using Windows Movie Maker to edit the afforementioned film which is practically like using crayons in a college-level art class. Don't want to talk about getting punched for the first time(although it was an accident and it's nothing my thick skull couldn't handle). Don't want to talk about suffering from the flu and my lack of sleep for over a week now and of finally getting things in order in my room after the storm messed some of my stuff up.
Nope, nada, nein, nyet! Don't want to talk about it. Not a word. I'm too tired... but I still have a lot to do...
....
"Beyond the mountains, there are mountains again." -Haitian proverb
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Sitting by the Window...
having dinner alone in a restaurant can sometimes be a good thing
I realize I can't relate to movies where the son has a hard time dealing with the fact that his parents can't see him play his favorite sport or watch his big theater performance or do whatever his thing is. Nope, I'm not much for having an audience...well, a familiar audience to be exact. Somehow, I'm more comfortable being better competitively at what I do around people I don't know or don't know that well. I think.
When I was younger, I was in this tennis tournament for our school. I was all psyched up about it, not expecting my dad to stay after he'd drop me off. But he did, although I told him that he probably had better things to do(hoping that would he would understand that he didn't have to watch). But he did stay, and see the opposition mop me all over the sandy court. Thing is, I could have beat the guy. I could have played better. I was better. But my dad was watching, and somehow, I fumbled throughout the game.
I wasn't too happy about it after the game. I wanted to blame my dad, but I kept it to myself. I would have to admit that it is pretty weird to not want someone you know cheer you on. Strangely enough, my dad said nothing about me losing that game on that day.
....
I like observing people. Most of the time I end up making stories and theories about them. Usually I do it with strangers, sometimes with friends who don't know I'm watching... and I'm always watching, haha. (ok, maybe that sounded a little bit scary)
It's raining out, and the reflection of halogen lamps on the road seem to have an effect on me. I see people hurry about. Correction, I see people by their lonesome hurry about. I notice, that those with companions(not neccesarily couples) tend to walk slower in the rain...or anywhere else for that matter. I figured it must be that they have to share umbrellas. Then I see that that wasn't true either. For I see two friends who seem to continue a conversation as they walk together despite the fact that they've only got paper to cover their heads. Hmmm, I wonder what that means.
Tonight, I saw a couple...of the romantic kind. Sometimes I wonder if they really love each other. If they'd stay long together. If he's with her coz it feels like she's the first one to make him feel that way. And if that is so, I wonder if she knows that there isn't another guy in the world who sees her the way he does. I wonder that if it's real, if they somehow realize how rare that happens. Sometimes I wonder at the miracle and the absurdity of the idea that two people can mean so much to each other.
Then I saw this girl. Wow. She was pretty. I know that most of the time the usual hormonal reaction that a guy would have is, "What a hot bod!" or something like that. But sometimes, just sometimes...especially nowdays, you get to look at a beautiful woman as if you were looking at a sunset. And you have no idea what a relief that is when that happens...
Yeah, yeah...so I'm turning to a sap, so what? :P
Oh well, I'm too lazy to write down the rest of my thoughts anyhow.
....
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
-Arthur Schopenhauer
having dinner alone in a restaurant can sometimes be a good thing
I realize I can't relate to movies where the son has a hard time dealing with the fact that his parents can't see him play his favorite sport or watch his big theater performance or do whatever his thing is. Nope, I'm not much for having an audience...well, a familiar audience to be exact. Somehow, I'm more comfortable being better competitively at what I do around people I don't know or don't know that well. I think.
When I was younger, I was in this tennis tournament for our school. I was all psyched up about it, not expecting my dad to stay after he'd drop me off. But he did, although I told him that he probably had better things to do(hoping that would he would understand that he didn't have to watch). But he did stay, and see the opposition mop me all over the sandy court. Thing is, I could have beat the guy. I could have played better. I was better. But my dad was watching, and somehow, I fumbled throughout the game.
I wasn't too happy about it after the game. I wanted to blame my dad, but I kept it to myself. I would have to admit that it is pretty weird to not want someone you know cheer you on. Strangely enough, my dad said nothing about me losing that game on that day.
....
I like observing people. Most of the time I end up making stories and theories about them. Usually I do it with strangers, sometimes with friends who don't know I'm watching... and I'm always watching, haha. (ok, maybe that sounded a little bit scary)
It's raining out, and the reflection of halogen lamps on the road seem to have an effect on me. I see people hurry about. Correction, I see people by their lonesome hurry about. I notice, that those with companions(not neccesarily couples) tend to walk slower in the rain...or anywhere else for that matter. I figured it must be that they have to share umbrellas. Then I see that that wasn't true either. For I see two friends who seem to continue a conversation as they walk together despite the fact that they've only got paper to cover their heads. Hmmm, I wonder what that means.
Tonight, I saw a couple...of the romantic kind. Sometimes I wonder if they really love each other. If they'd stay long together. If he's with her coz it feels like she's the first one to make him feel that way. And if that is so, I wonder if she knows that there isn't another guy in the world who sees her the way he does. I wonder that if it's real, if they somehow realize how rare that happens. Sometimes I wonder at the miracle and the absurdity of the idea that two people can mean so much to each other.
Then I saw this girl. Wow. She was pretty. I know that most of the time the usual hormonal reaction that a guy would have is, "What a hot bod!" or something like that. But sometimes, just sometimes...especially nowdays, you get to look at a beautiful woman as if you were looking at a sunset. And you have no idea what a relief that is when that happens...
Yeah, yeah...so I'm turning to a sap, so what? :P
Oh well, I'm too lazy to write down the rest of my thoughts anyhow.
....
"Every man takes the limits of his own field of vision for the limits of the world."
-Arthur Schopenhauer
Friday, August 11, 2006
One side of a conversation
lost = not knowing exactly who we are
I dont believe people really get lost.
I think people just get into unfamiliar territory, fear grips them at first...which either immobilizes them from action, makes them deny the situation, or face it head on. And when you conquer the unfamiliar situation positively...you come out knowing something more about yourself.
Like i said...people dont really get lost. they just get a chance to find themselves more if they just knew how to pick a fight...so to speak.
At some point...maybe we dont know anything about anyone...but it shouldnt stop us from trying.
Improbability isnt the point, but effort is. The choice to be someone to somebody, to know and be known.
if...
you have complete trust that you know who you are...
if you have that, you'll see that peoples "false" impressions of you would be quite forgivable.
hmm...i'll share something...
I can relate in the sense of being lost. The sense of being lost, in your words is not knowing who you are. For a time I did struggle with that, but only because i tried so hard to look at myself in a way that was "acceptable" to me. I somehow had this idea that who I was was some nice guy or something of the sort. I didnt want to come to terms with certain revelations, certain weaknesses. the moment i embraced all of myself...even the undesirables, i breathed a little easier...
I learned to be easier on myself and weirdly enough, it was the first step for me to be the self i wanted to be. I dont think we will ever be the selves we want to be completely in this lifetime. But if we dont come to terms first with everything that we really are...then we really havent got a chance.
I mean as a doctor...
You first have to diagnose the ailment, before you can even speak of a treatment.
....
I did the unthinkable!!!
Well...not really unthinkable, just lame. I flirted with someone online, haha:) My life must be so boring...oh well, some people are prone to worse, or so I hope, haha.
....
"Only the truly wise or the truly stupid never change"
-Aristotle
lost = not knowing exactly who we are
I dont believe people really get lost.
I think people just get into unfamiliar territory, fear grips them at first...which either immobilizes them from action, makes them deny the situation, or face it head on. And when you conquer the unfamiliar situation positively...you come out knowing something more about yourself.
Like i said...people dont really get lost. they just get a chance to find themselves more if they just knew how to pick a fight...so to speak.
At some point...maybe we dont know anything about anyone...but it shouldnt stop us from trying.
Improbability isnt the point, but effort is. The choice to be someone to somebody, to know and be known.
if...
you have complete trust that you know who you are...
if you have that, you'll see that peoples "false" impressions of you would be quite forgivable.
hmm...i'll share something...
I can relate in the sense of being lost. The sense of being lost, in your words is not knowing who you are. For a time I did struggle with that, but only because i tried so hard to look at myself in a way that was "acceptable" to me. I somehow had this idea that who I was was some nice guy or something of the sort. I didnt want to come to terms with certain revelations, certain weaknesses. the moment i embraced all of myself...even the undesirables, i breathed a little easier...
I learned to be easier on myself and weirdly enough, it was the first step for me to be the self i wanted to be. I dont think we will ever be the selves we want to be completely in this lifetime. But if we dont come to terms first with everything that we really are...then we really havent got a chance.
I mean as a doctor...
You first have to diagnose the ailment, before you can even speak of a treatment.
....
I did the unthinkable!!!
Well...not really unthinkable, just lame. I flirted with someone online, haha:) My life must be so boring...oh well, some people are prone to worse, or so I hope, haha.
....
"Only the truly wise or the truly stupid never change"
-Aristotle
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
It was at the end of the day that didn't even begin that I decided to sit around the sunken garden for a while on my way home. There wasn't anything in particular to think about, but everything just seemed to slow down at that moment and I decided it was a good idea to take a breather. I was enjoying the late afternoon wind and I thought it was beautiful how the leaves started to fall from the acacia trees...a forgivable moment of letting the aspects of creation get to you.
Then a leaf brushed my arm and landed on my lap.
As I picked it up, I realized it was a dead thing. All the things that I found beautiful at that moment were things that had just died. And I thought of how humanly naive it was for me to think it was a beautiful thing, of how human it was for me to not really see things for what they were.
Just before I thought too much of the falling dead before me, I think I heard a whisper, "It's how I meant it to be."
The way You meant it to be? Your design? So I thought about it. Was there something a dead leaf in my hand could teach me about God?
Apparently, there was.
I imagine, for most of it's life, the leaf must have gone largely unnnoticed. Blending perfectly into the green background with all it's buddies. There is a lot of fear in life to lose one's identity amongst the faces of a multitude, yet it probably didn't mind. It knew where it belonged and that accomplishing its design meant acknowledging those that were in its likeness.
I imagine that for most of it's life, the leaf must have gone largely unnappreciated. It didn't stop to look for thank you's, or leave time to regret over things. It only knew that the sun and rain kept it growing, so it decided to keep on living.
Ever so humble, it's lived every second of its life always filled with purpose. And even in the end, it would leave the world in such a way that would give a sense of beauty and peace to a sinners heart.
....
"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."
-CS Lewis
Then a leaf brushed my arm and landed on my lap.
As I picked it up, I realized it was a dead thing. All the things that I found beautiful at that moment were things that had just died. And I thought of how humanly naive it was for me to think it was a beautiful thing, of how human it was for me to not really see things for what they were.
Just before I thought too much of the falling dead before me, I think I heard a whisper, "It's how I meant it to be."
The way You meant it to be? Your design? So I thought about it. Was there something a dead leaf in my hand could teach me about God?
Apparently, there was.
I imagine, for most of it's life, the leaf must have gone largely unnnoticed. Blending perfectly into the green background with all it's buddies. There is a lot of fear in life to lose one's identity amongst the faces of a multitude, yet it probably didn't mind. It knew where it belonged and that accomplishing its design meant acknowledging those that were in its likeness.
I imagine that for most of it's life, the leaf must have gone largely unnappreciated. It didn't stop to look for thank you's, or leave time to regret over things. It only knew that the sun and rain kept it growing, so it decided to keep on living.
Ever so humble, it's lived every second of its life always filled with purpose. And even in the end, it would leave the world in such a way that would give a sense of beauty and peace to a sinners heart.
....
"I believe in Christianity as I believe that the Sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else."
-CS Lewis
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Boredom breeds Insanity...
When you get the crazy idea of jogging in the rain you might as well make sure you've got a good pair of shoes...the kind that doesn't let the water get in. The last thing you want are your socks feeling soggy and your feet squishy and wet. It's okay to try and battle it out with the elements every now and then, but with squishy feet, you haven't got a chance. So there I was, out of my mind, out in that kind of weather when even people with vehicles mostly opted to stay indoors. How bad could it be? It were all still just little droplets of water hitting me at just a denser, more painful amount than usual, but I figured it wouldn't kill me. And much to my amazement, the experience proved to be just as satisfying as I hoped it would be. I can't really put it into words, but I sure as heck won't advise anyone else to try it just to know what I'm talking about.
There are some things in life that aren't "wrong", but people wouldn't normally do them coz it just doesn't make sense to do them. Running in the rain is one of those things in my book. Well to me, sometimes, you just have to do things that don't make sense, to feel life. I'm not saying be a deviant. Living a normal life is good and all that (if anyone actually knows what normal is), all I'm saying is that it's simply not worth it-trying to look normal to everyone else if it bores the life out of you. If you want to find out things about yourself, it won't happen when you do the things your used to. It's not likely to happen in an environment you have control over(granting if we ever really have any control of the environments we are in.) You have to be in over your head, be in something bigger than you, possibly even something dangerous. It doesn't have to make sense at first. But it will, if you survive the experience. Okay, so maybe I'm not really talking about running in the rain anymore. Maybe I'm talking about wrestling with yourself. Wrestling with your limits. Somedays...you have to know. It was one of those days. Halfway around the academic oval, I'm already tired, my legs start to heat up, and I gasp for breath. It wasn't like this a few years ago, I was stronger, faster, better than this. And the thought that I allowed myself to decay quietly, unnoticed over time was more unforgiving than the fatigue that was starting to build up in my muscles. Today was not a day I was gonna be sorry for. I pushed myself harder, I ran faster and faster until my legs finally gave up on me before I did. Somehow I manage to cushion the fall, but I couldn't move a limb for what seemed an eon. In that time, I could only hear my own breathing, the pumping of my heart like a drum and the rain on my chest like a baptism. I felt no shame in those odd moments, probably because there was no one there to see me, but I probably couldn't have cared less if there were. It's been a long time since I gave something my all, and when that happens, you find out you really don't lose a thing at all. Not when in the process you find yourself...
All this silly talk...and all it really was was running in the rain.
....
"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." -Albert Einstein
When you get the crazy idea of jogging in the rain you might as well make sure you've got a good pair of shoes...the kind that doesn't let the water get in. The last thing you want are your socks feeling soggy and your feet squishy and wet. It's okay to try and battle it out with the elements every now and then, but with squishy feet, you haven't got a chance. So there I was, out of my mind, out in that kind of weather when even people with vehicles mostly opted to stay indoors. How bad could it be? It were all still just little droplets of water hitting me at just a denser, more painful amount than usual, but I figured it wouldn't kill me. And much to my amazement, the experience proved to be just as satisfying as I hoped it would be. I can't really put it into words, but I sure as heck won't advise anyone else to try it just to know what I'm talking about.
There are some things in life that aren't "wrong", but people wouldn't normally do them coz it just doesn't make sense to do them. Running in the rain is one of those things in my book. Well to me, sometimes, you just have to do things that don't make sense, to feel life. I'm not saying be a deviant. Living a normal life is good and all that (if anyone actually knows what normal is), all I'm saying is that it's simply not worth it-trying to look normal to everyone else if it bores the life out of you. If you want to find out things about yourself, it won't happen when you do the things your used to. It's not likely to happen in an environment you have control over(granting if we ever really have any control of the environments we are in.) You have to be in over your head, be in something bigger than you, possibly even something dangerous. It doesn't have to make sense at first. But it will, if you survive the experience. Okay, so maybe I'm not really talking about running in the rain anymore. Maybe I'm talking about wrestling with yourself. Wrestling with your limits. Somedays...you have to know. It was one of those days. Halfway around the academic oval, I'm already tired, my legs start to heat up, and I gasp for breath. It wasn't like this a few years ago, I was stronger, faster, better than this. And the thought that I allowed myself to decay quietly, unnoticed over time was more unforgiving than the fatigue that was starting to build up in my muscles. Today was not a day I was gonna be sorry for. I pushed myself harder, I ran faster and faster until my legs finally gave up on me before I did. Somehow I manage to cushion the fall, but I couldn't move a limb for what seemed an eon. In that time, I could only hear my own breathing, the pumping of my heart like a drum and the rain on my chest like a baptism. I felt no shame in those odd moments, probably because there was no one there to see me, but I probably couldn't have cared less if there were. It's been a long time since I gave something my all, and when that happens, you find out you really don't lose a thing at all. Not when in the process you find yourself...
All this silly talk...and all it really was was running in the rain.
....
"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results." -Albert Einstein
Monday, July 03, 2006
Just the blahs...
meaning this isn't suppose to make any sense
I don't think anyone ever really goes through their day satisfied with it. Or at least not consistently. Or is it just me? This being never satisfied with the conversations you've had, or the never being satisfied with the conversations you didn't even start. They say everyone has a certain emotional reaction to everything, and over time with consistent exposure, that reaction dwindles. Things change. I can live with that. But it's how they change that I have a problem dealing with. Is that what growing up is then? Unraveling to "a mess of sadness". Nowhere to go but down...a scary thought...but I hope not. Being negative about things hardly helps...but it sure as heck beats faking a smile.
The tock keeps ticking
The tock keeps ticking
As a kid, growing up seemed like such a wonderful thing. And it probably is, if we didn't find so many ways to mess it up. Growing up seemed like freedom. To me it meant finally knowing everything there is to know, getting to do all the things I wanted to do, going around the world, staying up late and finding out once and for all what the fuss was about with R-rated movies. Well if that's what the grown-up list is, lets just say I've covered 2 out of 5...and knowing everything there is to know isn't one of them. Truth be told, I know less of things nowadays than I ever have. Or is it I've just lost a sense of clarity, the kind that children have? Then maybe that's what they call innocence...and then maybe I can understand why it's so precious to lose. All for the sake of growing up? I think it's better to just call it growing old.
As a kid growing up, my parents tried to raise me to be as competitive as possible. To be the best that I can be, and to them that probably meant to be better than any other kid. Although I think it would be fair to mention that they mostly intended this kind of attitude in the field of academics(the others fields being sports, art competitions...actually any form of competition, debates, declamations...etc). I always had to win(which didn't happen). There's much I can say about how this really couldn't be too good for the child but I don't really intend to talk about the sins of parenting. But I do want to talk about what my mother always told me back then, that I should always have the "fighting spirit!" And she always said it with much energy, and though I was the quietest of her sons, I think I was the most receptive to her battle cry. And boy did I love a good fight(in the figurative sense of course). I lived for it. And it wasn't about achievement. It was more about desire. Knowing something to be right and true and being willing to fight for it, or towards it. There is nothing that can make you feel more alive.
However, somewhere over the course of time, I stopped hearing the words. At some point, I gave up fighting. I gave up desire. I stopped being the fighter. One day, I woke up feeling spent up and used. Without dreams, I was reduced to the walking dead. I often wonder if a crazy man would be sane enough to realize he's crazy. But I think it's a tragic truth that no matter how messed up we are, we would always have just enough intellegence to rememebr just how far we've fallen. I would weep about if I could, but there doesn't seem to be enough strength left in me to be even honest with my sorrow.
....
"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."-Henry David Thoreau
meaning this isn't suppose to make any sense
I don't think anyone ever really goes through their day satisfied with it. Or at least not consistently. Or is it just me? This being never satisfied with the conversations you've had, or the never being satisfied with the conversations you didn't even start. They say everyone has a certain emotional reaction to everything, and over time with consistent exposure, that reaction dwindles. Things change. I can live with that. But it's how they change that I have a problem dealing with. Is that what growing up is then? Unraveling to "a mess of sadness". Nowhere to go but down...a scary thought...but I hope not. Being negative about things hardly helps...but it sure as heck beats faking a smile.
The tock keeps ticking
The tock keeps ticking
As a kid, growing up seemed like such a wonderful thing. And it probably is, if we didn't find so many ways to mess it up. Growing up seemed like freedom. To me it meant finally knowing everything there is to know, getting to do all the things I wanted to do, going around the world, staying up late and finding out once and for all what the fuss was about with R-rated movies. Well if that's what the grown-up list is, lets just say I've covered 2 out of 5...and knowing everything there is to know isn't one of them. Truth be told, I know less of things nowadays than I ever have. Or is it I've just lost a sense of clarity, the kind that children have? Then maybe that's what they call innocence...and then maybe I can understand why it's so precious to lose. All for the sake of growing up? I think it's better to just call it growing old.
As a kid growing up, my parents tried to raise me to be as competitive as possible. To be the best that I can be, and to them that probably meant to be better than any other kid. Although I think it would be fair to mention that they mostly intended this kind of attitude in the field of academics(the others fields being sports, art competitions...actually any form of competition, debates, declamations...etc). I always had to win(which didn't happen). There's much I can say about how this really couldn't be too good for the child but I don't really intend to talk about the sins of parenting. But I do want to talk about what my mother always told me back then, that I should always have the "fighting spirit!" And she always said it with much energy, and though I was the quietest of her sons, I think I was the most receptive to her battle cry. And boy did I love a good fight(in the figurative sense of course). I lived for it. And it wasn't about achievement. It was more about desire. Knowing something to be right and true and being willing to fight for it, or towards it. There is nothing that can make you feel more alive.
However, somewhere over the course of time, I stopped hearing the words. At some point, I gave up fighting. I gave up desire. I stopped being the fighter. One day, I woke up feeling spent up and used. Without dreams, I was reduced to the walking dead. I often wonder if a crazy man would be sane enough to realize he's crazy. But I think it's a tragic truth that no matter how messed up we are, we would always have just enough intellegence to rememebr just how far we've fallen. I would weep about if I could, but there doesn't seem to be enough strength left in me to be even honest with my sorrow.
....
"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation."-Henry David Thoreau
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
BLUE RUIN
by moi
I'm here to erase Clementine.
Like you don't matter.
I want to call this off.
I don't want this anymore.
This mess of sadness. Withered and disappeared.
Empty your home. Empty your life, of Clementine.
Can I kill you for real this time?
Wait. Just wait. Just a while.
I had the best fucking night of my entire life.
It's all falling apart. It's 3 o clock. It's pathetic.
I still thought you were gonna save my life.
Can you hear me? Just for tonight.
Maybe we can. Enjoy it.
I know. I walked out the door.
You know me. Nothing you'll miss.
The nicest guy she ever went out with.
Oddly enough, I miss you.
I have to see the frozen Charles now.
Honeymoon on Ice.
Before I wake up and don't know you anymore.
I'm just happy. I've never felt that before.
I'm just exactly where I wanna be.
Please let me keep this one. Just this one.
How far are you going? We can hide.
Let me show you this one thing...
I'm not perfect. I love you.
It's almost morning.
You can really kill me this time.
It's not real.
Maybe we should end it right here.
It gets frozen this time of year.
I'm crawling out of my skin. I really should go.
You said, "so go!"
I wish you'd stayed. I wish I'd dtayed.
I don't know what to say.
You just took it, without waiting for an answer.
This is the last time I saw you.
I feel like I'm disappearing.
By morning you'll be gone.
Clem, they're erasing you.
Oh, I'm sorry.
This is it.
There's no memory left.
She looks at me like she doesn't even know who i am.
The perfect ending to this piece-of-shit story.
....
Writer's note: This poem is in tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time, ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. The thing i did was to get direct quotes from the movie and jumbled them together to create this piece...I dunno if that means I'm violating any copyright laws though, hehe. Oh yeah, pardon the french too...I'm not really accustomed to using that kind language in speech or writing, but as i said, the lines I used here I got from the movie...:)
by moi
I'm here to erase Clementine.
Like you don't matter.
I want to call this off.
I don't want this anymore.
This mess of sadness. Withered and disappeared.
Empty your home. Empty your life, of Clementine.
Can I kill you for real this time?
Wait. Just wait. Just a while.
I had the best fucking night of my entire life.
It's all falling apart. It's 3 o clock. It's pathetic.
I still thought you were gonna save my life.
Can you hear me? Just for tonight.
Maybe we can. Enjoy it.
I know. I walked out the door.
You know me. Nothing you'll miss.
The nicest guy she ever went out with.
Oddly enough, I miss you.
I have to see the frozen Charles now.
Honeymoon on Ice.
Before I wake up and don't know you anymore.
I'm just happy. I've never felt that before.
I'm just exactly where I wanna be.
Please let me keep this one. Just this one.
How far are you going? We can hide.
Let me show you this one thing...
I'm not perfect. I love you.
It's almost morning.
You can really kill me this time.
It's not real.
Maybe we should end it right here.
It gets frozen this time of year.
I'm crawling out of my skin. I really should go.
You said, "so go!"
I wish you'd stayed. I wish I'd dtayed.
I don't know what to say.
You just took it, without waiting for an answer.
This is the last time I saw you.
I feel like I'm disappearing.
By morning you'll be gone.
Clem, they're erasing you.
Oh, I'm sorry.
This is it.
There's no memory left.
She looks at me like she doesn't even know who i am.
The perfect ending to this piece-of-shit story.
....
Writer's note: This poem is in tribute to one of my favorite movies of all time, ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND. The thing i did was to get direct quotes from the movie and jumbled them together to create this piece...I dunno if that means I'm violating any copyright laws though, hehe. Oh yeah, pardon the french too...I'm not really accustomed to using that kind language in speech or writing, but as i said, the lines I used here I got from the movie...:)
Monday, May 15, 2006
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart
you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words
many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
-Khalil Gibran, THE PROPHET
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart
you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words
many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
-Khalil Gibran, THE PROPHET
Monday, May 01, 2006
When you're awake at 2:33am
You start thinking...
Why red pens always seem to write.There are people you need to talk to,
even when you know they would not be listening. There are things you need to say, even if you don't have the words for it. Whatever happened to that pretty girl who said 'thank you' when you opened the door for her. How much you remember before you sleep and how you remember squat when you wake. If anyone still sells those jumbo pens with jumbo erasers. How do you tell someone to let the dead bury their own? How many people could be possibly picking their noses right at this moment. How many people wished they were with someone else. Or how many people just wished they were with someone period. How many people are being born right at this moment? How many are saying their goodbyes? Or how many never got the chance. If you'll ever get to get ride a motorcycle on open road in full speed. If you asked God for superpowers, would He give it to you? And how cool it would be if He did. You wonder whats the worst thing your capable of. You wonder if you'll ever remember all the favorite songs you've forgotten about. If how much of the choices we really make are really much of a choice. Why you suddenly have the urge to paint something at this ungodly hour. If there's anything good on tv. Does the Devil really show himself at 3am. If anyone I know is still awake. I wonder where my wombat stuff toy is. If animals go to heaven(hey they didn't eat the apple, we did). How I wish I were in manila so I can walk outside. How I miss how much I believed in things when I was a kid. If I'm meant to be someone, I wonder what she's doing right now. I wonder if she's pretty. And how I wish it's her. That if I win the lotto, I'm not telling anyone. If i have a really loud snore when I sleep. I wonder if I'll ever know all the things I dream about. I wonder how long it takes to forgive. Or if forgetting is even possible. Or why sadness seems to be the only realy thing most of the times. I wonder when it was that I stopped caring. And when was it that I started caring about not caring anymore.
....
"Why don't you let anybody in?" He asked her.
"Because as beautiful as these moments are when they happen,
they're hell when they're gone."
-Ultraviolet
You start thinking...
Why red pens always seem to write.There are people you need to talk to,
even when you know they would not be listening. There are things you need to say, even if you don't have the words for it. Whatever happened to that pretty girl who said 'thank you' when you opened the door for her. How much you remember before you sleep and how you remember squat when you wake. If anyone still sells those jumbo pens with jumbo erasers. How do you tell someone to let the dead bury their own? How many people could be possibly picking their noses right at this moment. How many people wished they were with someone else. Or how many people just wished they were with someone period. How many people are being born right at this moment? How many are saying their goodbyes? Or how many never got the chance. If you'll ever get to get ride a motorcycle on open road in full speed. If you asked God for superpowers, would He give it to you? And how cool it would be if He did. You wonder whats the worst thing your capable of. You wonder if you'll ever remember all the favorite songs you've forgotten about. If how much of the choices we really make are really much of a choice. Why you suddenly have the urge to paint something at this ungodly hour. If there's anything good on tv. Does the Devil really show himself at 3am. If anyone I know is still awake. I wonder where my wombat stuff toy is. If animals go to heaven(hey they didn't eat the apple, we did). How I wish I were in manila so I can walk outside. How I miss how much I believed in things when I was a kid. If I'm meant to be someone, I wonder what she's doing right now. I wonder if she's pretty. And how I wish it's her. That if I win the lotto, I'm not telling anyone. If i have a really loud snore when I sleep. I wonder if I'll ever know all the things I dream about. I wonder how long it takes to forgive. Or if forgetting is even possible. Or why sadness seems to be the only realy thing most of the times. I wonder when it was that I stopped caring. And when was it that I started caring about not caring anymore.
....
"Why don't you let anybody in?" He asked her.
"Because as beautiful as these moments are when they happen,
they're hell when they're gone."
-Ultraviolet
Friday, April 14, 2006
Family History
I don't really know a lot about my relatives from the side of my father. Never met either of my grandparents from his side. Didn't meet my grandfather coz he died when my dad was 10. And the only memory I really have that relates to my grandmother was when in my early elementary days, my dad had to leave for Samar(I think) for her burial. Though my father had other siblings(he was the youngest), there was a silent rule in the house that asking about them was a no-no.
Anyhow, that was the way things were and I haven't given it much thought since, but on the long trip to our in-laws resort in a place called Sambuan for the holy week, we got to talk little on the subject.
"Do you know our greatgrandfather was a Guardia Civil?", my brother announces.
"Where did you hear that?" I ask.
"From papa. Ask him." And since dad was driving up front, I asked.
I find out it's true. My greatgrandfather was a Spaniard, and a Guardia Civil...and a very rich one at that. Owned vast hectares of land, and supposedly was the head of that area(forgot to ask where). Sadly though, he was executed by Katipuneros by manner of being hanged on a boat...don't ask me how. Though I'm totally for the big K, being a supporter for the Bonifacio-should-be-the-National-Hero Movement (fyi, no such movement really exists), I was still saddened by the thought that he died that way...he was my greatgrandfather afterall. Maybe he was a good Spaniard, i mean he did have a Filipina for his wife...or maybe not.
When he died, he only had two sons, my grandfather(the first Fruto) being the younger. He couldn't quite take the harsh treatment from his older brother, so one night, he went to his father's stable and took his horse- a white stallion(dig that!)- to gallop away only to return decades later.
Now my grandfather reportedly had quite an adventuruous life moving from one place to another. He had two wives, both of them named Isabelle. And he supposedly also had 5 other lovers, all of them named Isabelle too, I just don't know if he entertained them before or during his marriage. I guess it takes an Isabelle to bring out the bad boy in a Fruto,haha. (Now I don't know if I should be happy or sad that I haven't met an Isabelle...:P)
Anyway, among the adventures my granddad had, the one about him being a puppet mayor during the Japanese occupation (he was a vice-mayor before the japs came) stuck to me. At one time, the rebels approached him to share their plans to ambush some of the Japanese squads patrolling the area. With their bright idea, my lolo who had to accompany some of the patrols would lead the japs into a remote trail and there they would be ambushed. My lolo thought it through and on the planned day of the ambush, just before they would reach the spot of the planned ambush, he feigned having a very upset stomach. The Japanese soldiers had no choice but to head back into town, preventing them from falling into the rebels trap. In the mind of my lolo, it would have been a graver disaster if he pushed through with the plan. The remaining Japs would have known that he aligned himself with the rebels if he had not been killed in the ambush and they would slaughter the townsfolk to expose the resistance. So he probably thought it was for the greater good. On the day the Japs realized they were losing the war, some retreated into the sea trying to swim away with futile effort and they were butchered with bolos by some of the townsfolk on the beach. Though my dad did say that the Japs weren't that bad when they were around, in fact the town improved a lot during their stay.
Then we asked mom, "Hey ma, what about our greatgrandfather from your side, what did he do during the war?"
"Hmm...well,...uhm...what do you call that person...uhm, the one whose close to the Japanese? Hmmm...what do you call...hmmm...", my mom tries to think and rememeber hard.
"Close to the Japanese? Uhm...a traitor?" I suggested.
And everyone just laughed in the car.
....
"I don't have to look up my family tree, because I know that I'm the sap." -Fred Allen
I don't really know a lot about my relatives from the side of my father. Never met either of my grandparents from his side. Didn't meet my grandfather coz he died when my dad was 10. And the only memory I really have that relates to my grandmother was when in my early elementary days, my dad had to leave for Samar(I think) for her burial. Though my father had other siblings(he was the youngest), there was a silent rule in the house that asking about them was a no-no.
Anyhow, that was the way things were and I haven't given it much thought since, but on the long trip to our in-laws resort in a place called Sambuan for the holy week, we got to talk little on the subject.
"Do you know our greatgrandfather was a Guardia Civil?", my brother announces.
"Where did you hear that?" I ask.
"From papa. Ask him." And since dad was driving up front, I asked.
I find out it's true. My greatgrandfather was a Spaniard, and a Guardia Civil...and a very rich one at that. Owned vast hectares of land, and supposedly was the head of that area(forgot to ask where). Sadly though, he was executed by Katipuneros by manner of being hanged on a boat...don't ask me how. Though I'm totally for the big K, being a supporter for the Bonifacio-should-be-the-National-Hero Movement (fyi, no such movement really exists), I was still saddened by the thought that he died that way...he was my greatgrandfather afterall. Maybe he was a good Spaniard, i mean he did have a Filipina for his wife...or maybe not.
When he died, he only had two sons, my grandfather(the first Fruto) being the younger. He couldn't quite take the harsh treatment from his older brother, so one night, he went to his father's stable and took his horse- a white stallion(dig that!)- to gallop away only to return decades later.
Now my grandfather reportedly had quite an adventuruous life moving from one place to another. He had two wives, both of them named Isabelle. And he supposedly also had 5 other lovers, all of them named Isabelle too, I just don't know if he entertained them before or during his marriage. I guess it takes an Isabelle to bring out the bad boy in a Fruto,haha. (Now I don't know if I should be happy or sad that I haven't met an Isabelle...:P)
Anyway, among the adventures my granddad had, the one about him being a puppet mayor during the Japanese occupation (he was a vice-mayor before the japs came) stuck to me. At one time, the rebels approached him to share their plans to ambush some of the Japanese squads patrolling the area. With their bright idea, my lolo who had to accompany some of the patrols would lead the japs into a remote trail and there they would be ambushed. My lolo thought it through and on the planned day of the ambush, just before they would reach the spot of the planned ambush, he feigned having a very upset stomach. The Japanese soldiers had no choice but to head back into town, preventing them from falling into the rebels trap. In the mind of my lolo, it would have been a graver disaster if he pushed through with the plan. The remaining Japs would have known that he aligned himself with the rebels if he had not been killed in the ambush and they would slaughter the townsfolk to expose the resistance. So he probably thought it was for the greater good. On the day the Japs realized they were losing the war, some retreated into the sea trying to swim away with futile effort and they were butchered with bolos by some of the townsfolk on the beach. Though my dad did say that the Japs weren't that bad when they were around, in fact the town improved a lot during their stay.
Then we asked mom, "Hey ma, what about our greatgrandfather from your side, what did he do during the war?"
"Hmm...well,...uhm...what do you call that person...uhm, the one whose close to the Japanese? Hmmm...what do you call...hmmm...", my mom tries to think and rememeber hard.
"Close to the Japanese? Uhm...a traitor?" I suggested.
And everyone just laughed in the car.
....
"I don't have to look up my family tree, because I know that I'm the sap." -Fred Allen
Saturday, April 01, 2006
"Mama and Papa say the same thing about you. They say they don't understand you", my brother tells me as we settle down in the vacant tables affronting the restaurants in eastwood city at closing hours.
I ponder for a millisecond on what was being implied then I simply reply, "They said that?"
The way I figured it, the comment probably meant they didn't understand why I wanted to start working. Or they probably didn't understand why I wasn't going home for summer(or at least I'm not planning to). Or they probably didn't undertsand why I'm the only son who didn't graduate on time and is still in college. Or they probably don't understand why they don't know so much about the things I do. Or they probably don't understand just what it is I exactly do in my new course. Or they don't understand why I'm not seeing anyone (naaah...well, maybe my dad does). Or they just don't understand, period. Yeah it must be that last one. And I'm pretty sure that's the condition of most parent-offspring relationships.
But eventually I go over each and every single probable point with my brother. So first, we talk about work. "It's not even about the money, not really", and the smoothness of how immediate the words came out of my mouth surprised me. Despite the fact that both my parents were/are bankers, and some of my own brothers following the same suit, I've never quite developed the mind for "business". I won't say money doesn't interest me, I just won't describe it as tempting. Tempting in the sense that I won't break my back too much for the finer things (material things) in life. I'm quite content with things and to my amazement, am far more adaptable to certain environments and situations than the rest of my kin. But of course, I have to leave room for the possibility that this will not always be so. I explain to my brother that it's really more of an issue of being able to exert a certain amount of control over the things that happen in my life. And in a way being able to hold a certain amount of responsibility. But control has a price, and so I say I plan to play by the rules of this world (the rule that the world runs on money) for the meantime. He comments that we will always have to run for money for the rest of our lives. I disagreed of course, but I won't bother with the rest of that conversation here.
Then we talk about my course, then we talk about where he's planning to work, and how staying in Cebu might be a bad idea, and we talk about personality flaws in the family, yadayadayada. We talk about a lot of stuff.
Finally, after an hour or two, we decide to head back home. Staying up too late would be a bad idea coz my brother has to catch an early flight home to Cebu. As we near the taxi queue, I kinda say "Maybe they're just disappointed. I know they expected a lot from me..." My brother is quick to respond, "Yes, I think so too. They always say you're their most talented son...blahblahblah."
He should've stopped at yes.
....
"I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it."- Author Unknown
I ponder for a millisecond on what was being implied then I simply reply, "They said that?"
The way I figured it, the comment probably meant they didn't understand why I wanted to start working. Or they probably didn't understand why I wasn't going home for summer(or at least I'm not planning to). Or they probably didn't undertsand why I'm the only son who didn't graduate on time and is still in college. Or they probably don't understand why they don't know so much about the things I do. Or they probably don't understand just what it is I exactly do in my new course. Or they don't understand why I'm not seeing anyone (naaah...well, maybe my dad does). Or they just don't understand, period. Yeah it must be that last one. And I'm pretty sure that's the condition of most parent-offspring relationships.
But eventually I go over each and every single probable point with my brother. So first, we talk about work. "It's not even about the money, not really", and the smoothness of how immediate the words came out of my mouth surprised me. Despite the fact that both my parents were/are bankers, and some of my own brothers following the same suit, I've never quite developed the mind for "business". I won't say money doesn't interest me, I just won't describe it as tempting. Tempting in the sense that I won't break my back too much for the finer things (material things) in life. I'm quite content with things and to my amazement, am far more adaptable to certain environments and situations than the rest of my kin. But of course, I have to leave room for the possibility that this will not always be so. I explain to my brother that it's really more of an issue of being able to exert a certain amount of control over the things that happen in my life. And in a way being able to hold a certain amount of responsibility. But control has a price, and so I say I plan to play by the rules of this world (the rule that the world runs on money) for the meantime. He comments that we will always have to run for money for the rest of our lives. I disagreed of course, but I won't bother with the rest of that conversation here.
Then we talk about my course, then we talk about where he's planning to work, and how staying in Cebu might be a bad idea, and we talk about personality flaws in the family, yadayadayada. We talk about a lot of stuff.
Finally, after an hour or two, we decide to head back home. Staying up too late would be a bad idea coz my brother has to catch an early flight home to Cebu. As we near the taxi queue, I kinda say "Maybe they're just disappointed. I know they expected a lot from me..." My brother is quick to respond, "Yes, I think so too. They always say you're their most talented son...blahblahblah."
He should've stopped at yes.
....
"I don't suffer from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it."- Author Unknown
Thursday, March 30, 2006
ALL IN THE PAST...or not
"I don't know how long I can go on like this. Everyday I wake up not knowing why I have to get out of bed. And every night, I don't wanna sleep, coz if I do...It'll start all over again."
Yeah, you'd think by the way I wrote that I was the living dead or something. But I was, in a way. I sit down as I read on from the old scrap of paper I found lying inside a dusty old box. It doesn't take long for me to remember how things were a few years ago. I lie down and stare at the ceiling, I wonder, if things are really any different now.
I guess things aren't the same. I guess I am better off where I am now. But sometimes I still can't shake off the feeling that I'm still on that downward spiral. Or that the way to recovery is all too fragile. Or is it just I'm being my pessimistic self again? In the movie Before Sunset, it is theorized that people have certain unchangable basic personas, and on a lighter note that we are made of "beautiful specific details". I'm not so sure but I think I agree that we are made unique specific details...not necessarily beautiful. I guess I'm just naturally pessimistic/sarcastic, if not always obvious, I assure you it is usually true in secret. Even when my life was all hunkydorydoo(i think that means A-ok)...I was always on the lookout for bad days or at least looked at things a little too seriously. Most people might think that's a bad thing. Probably...but I would disagree. I'd rather not expound as of the moment...and I really don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I was starting to rant off.
Anyway, I guess I'm simply feeling guilty that I don't really make the best out of the second (or third, fourth, fifth, etc) chances I get. Nowadays I'm just really good at moping around in my private time...especially when I don't really have to. I guess old habits die hard.
Sometimes I feel fake when I'm out and I joke around too much...or when I catch myself smiling when I'm around other people. I guess that's why I don't like being around people that much. Could that be it? Or do i hate myself for the fact that i have to be fake in front of other people? And why do I feel so fake in the first place?
I wouldn't really know.
....
"You know what, I feel safe when your around", she'll say as she'd squeeze my arm. I manage a lazy smile and my first instinct is to quip a sarcastic remark, but only because I've never really learned how to handle remarks like that one.
For one, I don't see what "safety" there is that I could offer. And I don't know what that "safety" really means. But I've never really mustered enough to ask further about it, and I think it is always wise to leave it as it is and to speak nothing more of it. And if that already gets me uncomfortable, I won't even start with the squeezed arm. I dunno why I get so uptight with these things or why I'm so distant/detached/devoid of basic human emotion/interaction/social sense. Well, maybe I do know why. But sometimes I wish I wasn't always like this. But only sometimes.
Another friend of mine told me recently, "I think your one of the few real friends I have. Like if and when things get really bad, I think you'll still be there." (not an exact quote) I manage a light shrug as I remain quiet.
Okay, right off the gun, there is the possibility that the person said this just as a line for purposes of emotional leverage. Don't hate me for thinking that...it's just the way my mind works. But still, it is a possibility.
Anyway...
Similar to the point I made earlier (if I made any point or sense at all earlier that is), I just don't know how to react when people throw you things like that. To some degree, it is quite flattering. But seriously, I've never been too anxious with people's expectations that I'll be hanging around for the long haul. It just leaves so much room for disappointment. As some if not most of my old friends could attest, I'm not really there for them all the time...though I try to be. But trying is not enough. Never is. And I am puzzled as to what could lead people to that impression of me...I've always thought I was distant...the irony of it.
I'm not bothered when I don't get out to do most of the "fun" stuff people usually do. I'm hardly the life of the party (any party). I've grown content with the fact that I'm the guy friends run to when the party's over. I'm always at home at the morose discussions, the little tragedies of life, or even just plain company for non-events. I'm quite content being tissue paper so to speak. But if I look at it in honest perspective, I really don't offer much. Just words you could hear like a broken record at an oprah rerun. Nothing new. Nothing special. Just words. And it's not like I even practice what I preach(which makes me a hypocrite). So forgive me if I doubt my ability to be a real friend.
Sometimes I even wish that the person didn't really mean it. I just don't want people to expect anything from me.
....
"the truth you find, will be the truth you hide."-from the song How do you love, by Soul Asylum.
"I don't know how long I can go on like this. Everyday I wake up not knowing why I have to get out of bed. And every night, I don't wanna sleep, coz if I do...It'll start all over again."
Yeah, you'd think by the way I wrote that I was the living dead or something. But I was, in a way. I sit down as I read on from the old scrap of paper I found lying inside a dusty old box. It doesn't take long for me to remember how things were a few years ago. I lie down and stare at the ceiling, I wonder, if things are really any different now.
I guess things aren't the same. I guess I am better off where I am now. But sometimes I still can't shake off the feeling that I'm still on that downward spiral. Or that the way to recovery is all too fragile. Or is it just I'm being my pessimistic self again? In the movie Before Sunset, it is theorized that people have certain unchangable basic personas, and on a lighter note that we are made of "beautiful specific details". I'm not so sure but I think I agree that we are made unique specific details...not necessarily beautiful. I guess I'm just naturally pessimistic/sarcastic, if not always obvious, I assure you it is usually true in secret. Even when my life was all hunkydorydoo(i think that means A-ok)...I was always on the lookout for bad days or at least looked at things a little too seriously. Most people might think that's a bad thing. Probably...but I would disagree. I'd rather not expound as of the moment...and I really don't know where I'm going with this. I guess I was starting to rant off.
Anyway, I guess I'm simply feeling guilty that I don't really make the best out of the second (or third, fourth, fifth, etc) chances I get. Nowadays I'm just really good at moping around in my private time...especially when I don't really have to. I guess old habits die hard.
Sometimes I feel fake when I'm out and I joke around too much...or when I catch myself smiling when I'm around other people. I guess that's why I don't like being around people that much. Could that be it? Or do i hate myself for the fact that i have to be fake in front of other people? And why do I feel so fake in the first place?
I wouldn't really know.
....
"You know what, I feel safe when your around", she'll say as she'd squeeze my arm. I manage a lazy smile and my first instinct is to quip a sarcastic remark, but only because I've never really learned how to handle remarks like that one.
For one, I don't see what "safety" there is that I could offer. And I don't know what that "safety" really means. But I've never really mustered enough to ask further about it, and I think it is always wise to leave it as it is and to speak nothing more of it. And if that already gets me uncomfortable, I won't even start with the squeezed arm. I dunno why I get so uptight with these things or why I'm so distant/detached/devoid of basic human emotion/interaction/social sense. Well, maybe I do know why. But sometimes I wish I wasn't always like this. But only sometimes.
Another friend of mine told me recently, "I think your one of the few real friends I have. Like if and when things get really bad, I think you'll still be there." (not an exact quote) I manage a light shrug as I remain quiet.
Okay, right off the gun, there is the possibility that the person said this just as a line for purposes of emotional leverage. Don't hate me for thinking that...it's just the way my mind works. But still, it is a possibility.
Anyway...
Similar to the point I made earlier (if I made any point or sense at all earlier that is), I just don't know how to react when people throw you things like that. To some degree, it is quite flattering. But seriously, I've never been too anxious with people's expectations that I'll be hanging around for the long haul. It just leaves so much room for disappointment. As some if not most of my old friends could attest, I'm not really there for them all the time...though I try to be. But trying is not enough. Never is. And I am puzzled as to what could lead people to that impression of me...I've always thought I was distant...the irony of it.
I'm not bothered when I don't get out to do most of the "fun" stuff people usually do. I'm hardly the life of the party (any party). I've grown content with the fact that I'm the guy friends run to when the party's over. I'm always at home at the morose discussions, the little tragedies of life, or even just plain company for non-events. I'm quite content being tissue paper so to speak. But if I look at it in honest perspective, I really don't offer much. Just words you could hear like a broken record at an oprah rerun. Nothing new. Nothing special. Just words. And it's not like I even practice what I preach(which makes me a hypocrite). So forgive me if I doubt my ability to be a real friend.
Sometimes I even wish that the person didn't really mean it. I just don't want people to expect anything from me.
....
"the truth you find, will be the truth you hide."-from the song How do you love, by Soul Asylum.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Gesthemane
I dunno, I couldn't think of a better title. Took the shot near the infamous UP Lagoon...it's around 6 am. Used a cooling filter effect from photoshop to spiff it up but the colors of the original photo are much better in my opinion...but my scanner didn't do it justice so I had to improvise.
....
It's songs like Collide by Howie Day that make me want to fall in love again, or at least learn to play my guitar (which has been gathering dust) since I'm pretty sure the latter wouldn't involve as much pain as the former (I think I hear my nextdooor neighbor disagree), haha. It's not a topic I'm too fond of in most social circles, but it is a thought that pervades me in my private moments, there's hardly any escape from it. And I know that you guys know that I'm not talking about "playing the guitar", because it's a thought that pervades your thoughts as well. (that statement would only be true for 95% of the human populace the last time I checked)
I mean seriously, I was four years old when I decided I'd fall in love and marry the most beautiful woman in the world. It seemed like it was the most natural course my life could take. As if it was written somewhere that it's what has to happen. To deviate from it would be impossible. I took the future as a fact of life, and that's pretty much how I thought of everything else that came with it...finishing college(oops, a few problems there), getting the dream job, exploring the world(or other worlds), and being a superhero(hey, i was FOUR). Point is, I believed there were good things waiting for me. I guess that was what all the fuss about getting to grow up fast was about when we were kids. Being a grown-up meant we could live that future, that dream. It was an exciting thought, until as most of us might attest, realized that in having to grow up we had to say goodbye to our four-year olds...and all that implies.
I'm turning twenty four this year, still considerably young for a homosapien. Though I wonder if I still expect anything to happen in "that" department. There are days I think nay. I'm not saying it's a closed book, just not optimistic about it. There are days that I realize, "Hey, I've been doing relatively okay the past couple of years by myself...", which makes me think I'll still be okay by myself in all the years to come. But then there are moments of such blissful experiences and moments of such utter pain that I see my solitary heart unable to contain it. It is in our highest and lowest points in life that loneliness overwhelms us the strongest. Some joys and sorrows are meant to be shared, and in that department, I willingly concede that I am lacking. Though I have been blessed with friends, both old and true, I still can't shake off the feeling that something is missing. Something more than just any friendship. Someone. I don't know if she will be the most beautiful woman in the world, I just know I am incomplete in this world without her.
For now, I will struggle with my "solitude". Loneliness is just a wolf that dwells within me. And like all other wolves that dwell within us, they only grow if we feed them. But among the wolves, I'm glad to find the boy...he's still four years old, and he still believes.
....
"Solitude is the profoundest fact of the human condition. Man is the only being who knows he is alone." -Octavio Paz
Sunday, February 19, 2006
The Archko Volume
In 1887, Rev. W. D. Mahan published a book entitled The Archko Volume. According to Rev Mahan, it is the results of his exhaustive search for 1st century documents. He says his research took him to the Vatican in Rome, and to the Jewish Talmuds in Constantinople, Turkey.
CAUTION:
Keep in mind that these are Non-Canon documents.
Caiaphas to the Sanhedrim on Jesus's Ressurrection
Below was found wound in a scroll that had been in the archives of St Sophia mosque in Constantinople. It is believed that Mohammed had given orders to save all the Jerusalem Sanhedrim writings in a vault within this mosque.
The below report of Caiaiphas is written in what is known as the square Hebrew. The letters are from 1/2 inch to 1 inch high. It is read only with difficulty by the best Hebrew scholars.
Sanhedrim, 89. By Siphri II, 7.:
To You, Masters of Israel: As I have made a former defence to you, and you have approved the same, I feel in duty bound to communicate to you some facts that have come to my knowledge since that communication. A few days after the execution of Jesus of Nazareth the report of his resurrection from the dead became so common that I found it necessary to investigate it, because the excitement was more intense than before, and my own life as well as that of Pilate was in danger. I sent for Malkus, the captain of the royal city guard, who informed me he knew nothing personally, as he had placed Isham in command of the guard; but from what he could learn from the soldiers the scene was awe-inspiring, and the report was so generally believed that it was useless to deny it. He thought my only chance was to suppress it among the soldiers, and have John and Peter banished to Crete, or arrested and imprisoned, and if they would not be quiet, to treat them as I had treated Jesus. He said that all the soldiers he had conversed with were convinced that Jesus was resurrected by supernatural power and was still living, and that he was no human being, for the light and the angels and the dead that came out of their graves all went to prove that something had happened that never occurred on earth before. He said that John and Peter were spreading it all over the country, and that if Jesus would appear at the head of a host, and declare for the king of the Jews, he believed all the Jews would fight for him. I sent for the lieutenant, who gave a lengthy account of the occurrence that morning, all of which I suppose you have learned, and will investigate. From this I am convinced that something transcending the laws of nature took place that morning, that cannot be accounted for upon natural laws, and I find it useless to try and get any of the soldiers to deny it, for they are so excited that they cannot be reasoned with. I regret that I had the soldiers placed at the tomb, for the very things that they were to prevent they have helped to establish.
After questioning the soldiers and officers to my satisfaction, my mind being so disturbed that I could neither eat nor sleep, I sent for John and Peter. They came and brought Mary and Joanna, who are the women that went to embalm Jesus's body the morning of the resurrection, as it is called. They were very interesting as they related the circumstances. Mary says that when they went day was just breaking. They met the soldiers returning from the sepulchre, and saw nothing strange until they came to the tomb, and found that it was empty. The stone that covered the sepulchre was rolled to one side, and two men dressed in flowing white were sitting, one at each end of the sepulchre. Mary asked them where was her Lord; they said, "He is risen from the dead; did he not tell you he would rise the third day and show himself to the people, to prove that he was the Lord of life?" Go tell his desciples, said they. Joanna said she saw but one man; but the discrepancy must have been due to their excitement, because they say they were much alarmed. They both say that as they returned they met the Master, who told them that he was the resurrection and the life; all that will accept shall be resurrected from the second death. "We fell at his feet, all bathed in tears, and when we rose up he was gone." Both these women wept for joy while relating these circumstances, and John shouted aloud, which made me tremble in every limb, for I could not help thinking that something that was the exclusive work of God had occurred, but what it all meant was a great mystery to me. It might be, I said, that God had sent this message by the mouth of this stranger; it might be that he was the seed of the woman, and we his people had executed him.
I asked John and Peter if they could give me any further evidence in regard to this man; that I wished to be informed of his private history. Peter said that Jesus passed by where he was, and bade him to follow him, and he felt attracted to him, but at first it was more through curiosity than anything in the man; that he soon became acquainted with Mary, who told him that he was her son, and related to him the strange circumstances of his birth, and that she was convinced that he was to be the king of the Jews. She spoke of many strange things concerning his life which mane Peter feel more interested in him than he would have been otherwise. He said that Jesus was a man so pleasant in his character, and so like a child in innocence, that no one could help liking him after he got acquainted with him; that though he seemed to be stern and cold, he was not so in reality; that he was exceedingtly kind, especially to the poor; that he would make any sacrifice for the sick and needy, and would spare no effort to impart knowledge to anyone that would call on him, and that his knowledge was so profound that he had seen him interrogated by the most learned doctors of the law, and he always gave the most perfect satisfaction, and that the sopher or scribes, and the Hillelites, and Shammaites were afraid to open their mouths in his presence. They had attacked him so often and been repelled that they shunned him as they would a wolf; but when he repelled them he did not enjoy the triumph as they did over others of whom they had gotton the ascendency. As to his private life, he seemed not to be a man of pleasure, nor of sorrow. He mingled with society to benefit it, and yet took no part at all in what was going on. I had heard many tell of what occurred when he was baptized, and from what his mother told me I was watching for a display of his divine power, if he had any, and I knew he could never be king of the Jews unless he did have help from on high. Once when we were attending a marriage-feast the wine gave out, and his mother told him of it, and he said to the men to fill up some water-pots that were sitting near, and they put in nothing but water, for I watched them, but when they poured it out it was wine, for it was tasted by all at the feast, and when the master found it out he called for Jesus to honor him, but he had disappeared. It seemed that he did not want to be popular, and this spirit displeased us, for we knew if he was to be king of the
Jews he must become popular with the Jews. His behavior angered his mother, for she was doing all she could to bring him into notice, and to make him popular among the people, and the people could not help liking him when they saw him. Another peculiarity was that in his presence everyone felt safe. There seemed to be an almighty power pervading the air wherever he went so that everyone felt secure, and believed that no harm could befall them if Jesus were present. As we were in our fishing-boat I saw Jesus coming out toward us, walking on the water. I knew that if he could make the waves support him, he could me also. I asked him if I might come to him; he said to me to come, but when I saw the waves gathering around me I began to sink, and asked him to help me. He lifted me up, and told me to have faith in God. On another occasion we were sailing on the sea, and there was a great storm. It blew at a fearful rate, and all on board thought they would be lost; we awakened the master, and when he saw the raging of the storm he stretched out his hand and said, "Peace, be still!" and the wind ceased to blow, the thunder stopped, the lightnings withdrew, and the billowing sea seemed as quiet as a babe in its mother's arms--all done in one moment of time. This I saw with my own eyes, and from that time I was convinced that he was not a common man.
Acta Pilati (Pilates report to Caesar)
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"Among the various rumors that came to my ears there was one in particular that attracted my attention. A young man, it was said, had appeared in Galilee preaching with a noble unction a new law in the name of the God that had sent him. At first I was apprehensive that his design was to stir up the people against the Romans, but my fears were soon dispelled. Jesus of Nazareth spoke rather as a friend of the Romans than of the Jews. One day in passing by the place of Siloe, where there was a great concourse of people, I observed in the midst of the group a young man who was leaning against a tree, calmly addressing the multitude. I was told it was Jesus. This I could easily have suspected, so great was the difference between him and those listening to him. His golden-colored hair and beard gave to his appearance a celestial aspect. He appeared to be about thirty years of age. Never have I seen a sweeter or more serene countenance."
Pilate describes the mob at the crucifixion
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"Often in our civil commotions have I witnessed the furious anger of the multitude, but nothing could be compared to what I witnessed on this occasion. It might have been truly said that all the phantoms of the infernal regions had assembled at Jerusalem. The crowd appeared not to walk, but to be borne off and whirled as a vortex, rolling along in living waves from the portals of the praetorium even unto Mount Zion, with howling screams, shrieks, and vociferations such as were never heard in the seditions of the Pannonia, or in the tumults of the forum."
Pilate describes great noise and darkness at Golgotha
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"A loud clamor was heard proceeding from Golgotha, which, borne on the winds, seemed to announce an agony such as was never heard by mortal ears. Dark clouds lowered over the pinnacle of the temple, and setting over the city covered it with a veil. So dreadful were the signs that men saw both in the heavans and on the earth that Dionysius the Aeropagite is reported to have exclaimed, "Either the author of nature is suffering or the universe is falling apart."
Scroll written by Caiaphas the high priest
found in the mosque of St. Sophia in what was then called Costantinople. The scroll indicates his confession and resignation from his high office after an instance when Jesus appears to him while he is with his wife and his father Annas while reading scripture.
"My breath stopped, my blood ran cold, and I was in the act of falling, when He spoke and said:"Be not afraid, it is I. You condemned me that you might go free. This is the work of my Father. Your only wrong is, you have a wicked heart; this you must repent of. This last lamb you have slain is the one that was appointed before the foundation; this sacrifice is made for all men. Your other lambs were for those who offered them, this is for all, this is the last; it is for you if you will accept it. I died that you and all mankind might be saved."
At this he looked at me with such melting tenderness that it seemed to me I was nothing but tears, and my strength was all gone. I fell on my face at His feet as one that was dead. When Annas lifted me up Jesus was gone, and the door still locked. No one could tell when or where he went."
Pilate quotes Ben Isham, a sentry at Christ's Tomb
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"He said that about the beginning of the fourth watch they saw a soft and beautiful light over the sepulchre. He at first thought that the women had come to embalm the body of Jesus, as was their custom, but he could not see how they could have gotten through the guards. While these thoughts were passing through his mind, behold, the whole place was lighted up, and there seemed to be crowds of the dead in their graveclothes. All seemed to be shouting and filled with ecstasy, while all around and above was the most beautiful music he had ever heard; and the whole air seemed to be voices praising God."
PILATE'S CONCLUDING remarks in his report to Caesar:
I am almost ready to say, as did Manlius at the cross, "Truly this was the Son of God".
....
Debate on the document authenticity? CLICK HERE
There's more but that's all for now:)
In 1887, Rev. W. D. Mahan published a book entitled The Archko Volume. According to Rev Mahan, it is the results of his exhaustive search for 1st century documents. He says his research took him to the Vatican in Rome, and to the Jewish Talmuds in Constantinople, Turkey.
CAUTION:
Keep in mind that these are Non-Canon documents.
Caiaphas to the Sanhedrim on Jesus's Ressurrection
Below was found wound in a scroll that had been in the archives of St Sophia mosque in Constantinople. It is believed that Mohammed had given orders to save all the Jerusalem Sanhedrim writings in a vault within this mosque.
The below report of Caiaiphas is written in what is known as the square Hebrew. The letters are from 1/2 inch to 1 inch high. It is read only with difficulty by the best Hebrew scholars.
Sanhedrim, 89. By Siphri II, 7.:
To You, Masters of Israel: As I have made a former defence to you, and you have approved the same, I feel in duty bound to communicate to you some facts that have come to my knowledge since that communication. A few days after the execution of Jesus of Nazareth the report of his resurrection from the dead became so common that I found it necessary to investigate it, because the excitement was more intense than before, and my own life as well as that of Pilate was in danger. I sent for Malkus, the captain of the royal city guard, who informed me he knew nothing personally, as he had placed Isham in command of the guard; but from what he could learn from the soldiers the scene was awe-inspiring, and the report was so generally believed that it was useless to deny it. He thought my only chance was to suppress it among the soldiers, and have John and Peter banished to Crete, or arrested and imprisoned, and if they would not be quiet, to treat them as I had treated Jesus. He said that all the soldiers he had conversed with were convinced that Jesus was resurrected by supernatural power and was still living, and that he was no human being, for the light and the angels and the dead that came out of their graves all went to prove that something had happened that never occurred on earth before. He said that John and Peter were spreading it all over the country, and that if Jesus would appear at the head of a host, and declare for the king of the Jews, he believed all the Jews would fight for him. I sent for the lieutenant, who gave a lengthy account of the occurrence that morning, all of which I suppose you have learned, and will investigate. From this I am convinced that something transcending the laws of nature took place that morning, that cannot be accounted for upon natural laws, and I find it useless to try and get any of the soldiers to deny it, for they are so excited that they cannot be reasoned with. I regret that I had the soldiers placed at the tomb, for the very things that they were to prevent they have helped to establish.
After questioning the soldiers and officers to my satisfaction, my mind being so disturbed that I could neither eat nor sleep, I sent for John and Peter. They came and brought Mary and Joanna, who are the women that went to embalm Jesus's body the morning of the resurrection, as it is called. They were very interesting as they related the circumstances. Mary says that when they went day was just breaking. They met the soldiers returning from the sepulchre, and saw nothing strange until they came to the tomb, and found that it was empty. The stone that covered the sepulchre was rolled to one side, and two men dressed in flowing white were sitting, one at each end of the sepulchre. Mary asked them where was her Lord; they said, "He is risen from the dead; did he not tell you he would rise the third day and show himself to the people, to prove that he was the Lord of life?" Go tell his desciples, said they. Joanna said she saw but one man; but the discrepancy must have been due to their excitement, because they say they were much alarmed. They both say that as they returned they met the Master, who told them that he was the resurrection and the life; all that will accept shall be resurrected from the second death. "We fell at his feet, all bathed in tears, and when we rose up he was gone." Both these women wept for joy while relating these circumstances, and John shouted aloud, which made me tremble in every limb, for I could not help thinking that something that was the exclusive work of God had occurred, but what it all meant was a great mystery to me. It might be, I said, that God had sent this message by the mouth of this stranger; it might be that he was the seed of the woman, and we his people had executed him.
I asked John and Peter if they could give me any further evidence in regard to this man; that I wished to be informed of his private history. Peter said that Jesus passed by where he was, and bade him to follow him, and he felt attracted to him, but at first it was more through curiosity than anything in the man; that he soon became acquainted with Mary, who told him that he was her son, and related to him the strange circumstances of his birth, and that she was convinced that he was to be the king of the Jews. She spoke of many strange things concerning his life which mane Peter feel more interested in him than he would have been otherwise. He said that Jesus was a man so pleasant in his character, and so like a child in innocence, that no one could help liking him after he got acquainted with him; that though he seemed to be stern and cold, he was not so in reality; that he was exceedingtly kind, especially to the poor; that he would make any sacrifice for the sick and needy, and would spare no effort to impart knowledge to anyone that would call on him, and that his knowledge was so profound that he had seen him interrogated by the most learned doctors of the law, and he always gave the most perfect satisfaction, and that the sopher or scribes, and the Hillelites, and Shammaites were afraid to open their mouths in his presence. They had attacked him so often and been repelled that they shunned him as they would a wolf; but when he repelled them he did not enjoy the triumph as they did over others of whom they had gotton the ascendency. As to his private life, he seemed not to be a man of pleasure, nor of sorrow. He mingled with society to benefit it, and yet took no part at all in what was going on. I had heard many tell of what occurred when he was baptized, and from what his mother told me I was watching for a display of his divine power, if he had any, and I knew he could never be king of the Jews unless he did have help from on high. Once when we were attending a marriage-feast the wine gave out, and his mother told him of it, and he said to the men to fill up some water-pots that were sitting near, and they put in nothing but water, for I watched them, but when they poured it out it was wine, for it was tasted by all at the feast, and when the master found it out he called for Jesus to honor him, but he had disappeared. It seemed that he did not want to be popular, and this spirit displeased us, for we knew if he was to be king of the
Jews he must become popular with the Jews. His behavior angered his mother, for she was doing all she could to bring him into notice, and to make him popular among the people, and the people could not help liking him when they saw him. Another peculiarity was that in his presence everyone felt safe. There seemed to be an almighty power pervading the air wherever he went so that everyone felt secure, and believed that no harm could befall them if Jesus were present. As we were in our fishing-boat I saw Jesus coming out toward us, walking on the water. I knew that if he could make the waves support him, he could me also. I asked him if I might come to him; he said to me to come, but when I saw the waves gathering around me I began to sink, and asked him to help me. He lifted me up, and told me to have faith in God. On another occasion we were sailing on the sea, and there was a great storm. It blew at a fearful rate, and all on board thought they would be lost; we awakened the master, and when he saw the raging of the storm he stretched out his hand and said, "Peace, be still!" and the wind ceased to blow, the thunder stopped, the lightnings withdrew, and the billowing sea seemed as quiet as a babe in its mother's arms--all done in one moment of time. This I saw with my own eyes, and from that time I was convinced that he was not a common man.
Acta Pilati (Pilates report to Caesar)
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"Among the various rumors that came to my ears there was one in particular that attracted my attention. A young man, it was said, had appeared in Galilee preaching with a noble unction a new law in the name of the God that had sent him. At first I was apprehensive that his design was to stir up the people against the Romans, but my fears were soon dispelled. Jesus of Nazareth spoke rather as a friend of the Romans than of the Jews. One day in passing by the place of Siloe, where there was a great concourse of people, I observed in the midst of the group a young man who was leaning against a tree, calmly addressing the multitude. I was told it was Jesus. This I could easily have suspected, so great was the difference between him and those listening to him. His golden-colored hair and beard gave to his appearance a celestial aspect. He appeared to be about thirty years of age. Never have I seen a sweeter or more serene countenance."
Pilate describes the mob at the crucifixion
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"Often in our civil commotions have I witnessed the furious anger of the multitude, but nothing could be compared to what I witnessed on this occasion. It might have been truly said that all the phantoms of the infernal regions had assembled at Jerusalem. The crowd appeared not to walk, but to be borne off and whirled as a vortex, rolling along in living waves from the portals of the praetorium even unto Mount Zion, with howling screams, shrieks, and vociferations such as were never heard in the seditions of the Pannonia, or in the tumults of the forum."
Pilate describes great noise and darkness at Golgotha
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"A loud clamor was heard proceeding from Golgotha, which, borne on the winds, seemed to announce an agony such as was never heard by mortal ears. Dark clouds lowered over the pinnacle of the temple, and setting over the city covered it with a veil. So dreadful were the signs that men saw both in the heavans and on the earth that Dionysius the Aeropagite is reported to have exclaimed, "Either the author of nature is suffering or the universe is falling apart."
Scroll written by Caiaphas the high priest
found in the mosque of St. Sophia in what was then called Costantinople. The scroll indicates his confession and resignation from his high office after an instance when Jesus appears to him while he is with his wife and his father Annas while reading scripture.
"My breath stopped, my blood ran cold, and I was in the act of falling, when He spoke and said:"Be not afraid, it is I. You condemned me that you might go free. This is the work of my Father. Your only wrong is, you have a wicked heart; this you must repent of. This last lamb you have slain is the one that was appointed before the foundation; this sacrifice is made for all men. Your other lambs were for those who offered them, this is for all, this is the last; it is for you if you will accept it. I died that you and all mankind might be saved."
At this he looked at me with such melting tenderness that it seemed to me I was nothing but tears, and my strength was all gone. I fell on my face at His feet as one that was dead. When Annas lifted me up Jesus was gone, and the door still locked. No one could tell when or where he went."
Pilate quotes Ben Isham, a sentry at Christ's Tomb
BEGINS WITH:
"To Tiberius Caesar, Emperor of Rome. Noble Sovereign, Greeting: The events of the last few days in my province have been of such a character that I will give the details in full as they occurred,
"He said that about the beginning of the fourth watch they saw a soft and beautiful light over the sepulchre. He at first thought that the women had come to embalm the body of Jesus, as was their custom, but he could not see how they could have gotten through the guards. While these thoughts were passing through his mind, behold, the whole place was lighted up, and there seemed to be crowds of the dead in their graveclothes. All seemed to be shouting and filled with ecstasy, while all around and above was the most beautiful music he had ever heard; and the whole air seemed to be voices praising God."
PILATE'S CONCLUDING remarks in his report to Caesar:
I am almost ready to say, as did Manlius at the cross, "Truly this was the Son of God".
....
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There's more but that's all for now:)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Hands down this is the best day
I can ever remember. I'll always remember,
The sound of the stereo,
down to the soft lights,
the scent of your hair
that you twirled in your fingers.
And the time of the clock,
when we realized it's so late,
and this walk that we shared together.
The streets were wet and the gate was locked,
so I jumped it, and let you in.
And you stood at your door
with your hands on my waist,
And you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew, that you meant it.
That you meant it, that you meant it...
I knew...that you meant it.
-words from the song Hands Down, by the Dashboard Confessionals
....
Still, some memories continue to persist. Still, the weight of her head burdens my shoulders. Still, her absent fingers keep me from holding any other. Though I keep her faceless, she keeps me. And until the shadows lift from my wall, I will wait for no other.
....
"If we are not empty, we become a block of matter.
We cannot breathe, we cannot think.
To be empty means to be alive, to breathe in and to breathe out.
We cannot be alive if we are not empty.
Emptiness is impermanence, it is change.
We should not complain about impermanence,
because without impermanence, nothing is possible." -Nhat Hanh
I can ever remember. I'll always remember,
The sound of the stereo,
down to the soft lights,
the scent of your hair
that you twirled in your fingers.
And the time of the clock,
when we realized it's so late,
and this walk that we shared together.
The streets were wet and the gate was locked,
so I jumped it, and let you in.
And you stood at your door
with your hands on my waist,
And you kissed me like you meant it.
And I knew, that you meant it.
That you meant it, that you meant it...
I knew...that you meant it.
-words from the song Hands Down, by the Dashboard Confessionals
....
Still, some memories continue to persist. Still, the weight of her head burdens my shoulders. Still, her absent fingers keep me from holding any other. Though I keep her faceless, she keeps me. And until the shadows lift from my wall, I will wait for no other.
....
"If we are not empty, we become a block of matter.
We cannot breathe, we cannot think.
To be empty means to be alive, to breathe in and to breathe out.
We cannot be alive if we are not empty.
Emptiness is impermanence, it is change.
We should not complain about impermanence,
because without impermanence, nothing is possible." -Nhat Hanh
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Conversations depicted herein were originally in Visayan
It wasn't much of what she said, but how she said it with so much disdain and loathing, "born again!"
"Did you know that your cousin is already a born again?!", my mother said with outrage over the phone. "What has she been thinking? Why has she allowed herself to be influenced by those kind of people? She has allowed herself to be tempted! Has there been anyone tempting you?", I don't offer a reply and thankfully she continues to rant off. "Do you know your grandmother is very angry about it? It's the family religion! Born a Catholic, die a Catholic. How can she betray her family? She's gone insane! When she(my cousin), went back home in Davao, she refused to go to church. What's wrong with her?! She's really gone crazy. Don, don't ever allow yourself to end up like her. Don't allow yourself to be influenced by people like that in manila, you're better than that! Has anyone approached you? Avoid them. Has there been anyone talking to you? There's nothing wrong with talking to Mary, or to the saints...we're not worshipping them. Your cousin has really gone crazy..."
"Ma, she's old already, maybe it's better to leave her to make her own decisions..." I manage to say in the end. Then I come up with something else to talk about coz it's hardly a topic I want to dwell in, for the moment.
When the phone conversation is finally over, I feel my chest sag with heaviness. One day, I will be the one they will call "insane", "a betrayer of the family",and "stupid"...amongst other things. But it is hardly the insults that worry me. But the thought that one day, I would have to stand by the truth I have found no matter what. Even if it means going against family. When that day comes, may God grant me the courage to pull through.
....
"When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons. We cease to grow." -Anais Nin,
It wasn't much of what she said, but how she said it with so much disdain and loathing, "born again!"
"Did you know that your cousin is already a born again?!", my mother said with outrage over the phone. "What has she been thinking? Why has she allowed herself to be influenced by those kind of people? She has allowed herself to be tempted! Has there been anyone tempting you?", I don't offer a reply and thankfully she continues to rant off. "Do you know your grandmother is very angry about it? It's the family religion! Born a Catholic, die a Catholic. How can she betray her family? She's gone insane! When she(my cousin), went back home in Davao, she refused to go to church. What's wrong with her?! She's really gone crazy. Don, don't ever allow yourself to end up like her. Don't allow yourself to be influenced by people like that in manila, you're better than that! Has anyone approached you? Avoid them. Has there been anyone talking to you? There's nothing wrong with talking to Mary, or to the saints...we're not worshipping them. Your cousin has really gone crazy..."
"Ma, she's old already, maybe it's better to leave her to make her own decisions..." I manage to say in the end. Then I come up with something else to talk about coz it's hardly a topic I want to dwell in, for the moment.
When the phone conversation is finally over, I feel my chest sag with heaviness. One day, I will be the one they will call "insane", "a betrayer of the family",and "stupid"...amongst other things. But it is hardly the insults that worry me. But the thought that one day, I would have to stand by the truth I have found no matter what. Even if it means going against family. When that day comes, may God grant me the courage to pull through.
....
"When we blindly adopt a religion, a political system, a literary dogma, we become automatons. We cease to grow." -Anais Nin,
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
NEW YEAR 2006
We are all gathered in the sala just a few minutes before the clock actually hits the new year with most of us just watching tv when suddenly loud explosions of firecrackers erupt just outside our front door and by the car garage. My mom being her panic-prone usual self rushes out to look out of the hallway window and shout, "Nasunog atong Balay!". Knowing our mom usually overeacts, we hardly budge...but she keeps on screaming it, so I go to look outside the window. I don't see a fire but I do see cinders and the area by the front door is covered by a LOT of paper bits and ashes. So the explosions really did happen just outside the door. And as I was still trying to figure out what might have happened, my mom goes to open the main door and shouted at the top of her lungs (there were firecrackers still exploding outside), "Hoooooooooy! Ayaw impanglabay inyong mga pabuto diri!"...and other stuff pa. My brothers and I try to dissuade from shouting anymore and that it wasn't a good idea (oNe of my brothers mentioning that the fireworks were ours and that it might have exploded by accident), but she still seemed too angry about it and was convinced that the neighbors threw firecrackers at our house. Eventually my dad got up and went upstairs to his room to get a cap and coat then headed outside to our neighbors house.
I didn't witness the how my dad initially approached the neighbors, but my older brother told me that he marched on straight ahead ,unflinching to the noisy festivities happening around him. He talks to the first two guys he approaches and a little while later is joined by another guy. Now this "new" guy was unfortunately the
kind who had a short temper and the conversation started to get out of hand. I step outside when I hear shouting and I see that things aren't looking too good. Several people are now in front of our yard while two of my brothers stand by my dad. The "new" guy was by now itching for a fight and was taunting my dad to come out and have a brawl right on the street. He was jumping and screaming trying to get into our yard while two other guys who had cooler heads were trying to keep him back. This went on for a loooong 5 minutes and later on there were people arguing here and there. I take of my coat expecting the worst as some of them continue to shout at us and that we have no right accusing them and such and all that. Then security comes...my mom called them in to deflate the situation and that's when we go back into the house while tempers were still flaring outside. We all sit by the sala again...but no one says anything. A little later, my parents talk about how it was "handled" and how it will be resolved, and who's fault it really was blah, blah, blah...then everybody except me and an older brother slept after that. We watched tv till 4...
Most likely, this is what really happened. My crazy brothers left some firecrackers outside unattended, and when the neighbors started celebrating the new year with fireworks, it couldnt be avoided that cinders and strays would reach our yard by accident and ignited our firecrackers. My mom made the mistake of shouting accusations too quickly, too soon; and my dad made the mistake of dashing into the neighbors house with half-baked facts, which was an invitiation to escalate the situation outta proportion. We would have had our asses handed to us if it ended in a brawl, and we would have deserved it.
Anyway...
Happy new year to everybody!
....
"If growing up is the process of creating ideas and dreams about what life should be, then maturity is letting go again."-Mary Beth Danielson
We are all gathered in the sala just a few minutes before the clock actually hits the new year with most of us just watching tv when suddenly loud explosions of firecrackers erupt just outside our front door and by the car garage. My mom being her panic-prone usual self rushes out to look out of the hallway window and shout, "Nasunog atong Balay!". Knowing our mom usually overeacts, we hardly budge...but she keeps on screaming it, so I go to look outside the window. I don't see a fire but I do see cinders and the area by the front door is covered by a LOT of paper bits and ashes. So the explosions really did happen just outside the door. And as I was still trying to figure out what might have happened, my mom goes to open the main door and shouted at the top of her lungs (there were firecrackers still exploding outside), "Hoooooooooy! Ayaw impanglabay inyong mga pabuto diri!"...and other stuff pa. My brothers and I try to dissuade from shouting anymore and that it wasn't a good idea (oNe of my brothers mentioning that the fireworks were ours and that it might have exploded by accident), but she still seemed too angry about it and was convinced that the neighbors threw firecrackers at our house. Eventually my dad got up and went upstairs to his room to get a cap and coat then headed outside to our neighbors house.
I didn't witness the how my dad initially approached the neighbors, but my older brother told me that he marched on straight ahead ,unflinching to the noisy festivities happening around him. He talks to the first two guys he approaches and a little while later is joined by another guy. Now this "new" guy was unfortunately the
kind who had a short temper and the conversation started to get out of hand. I step outside when I hear shouting and I see that things aren't looking too good. Several people are now in front of our yard while two of my brothers stand by my dad. The "new" guy was by now itching for a fight and was taunting my dad to come out and have a brawl right on the street. He was jumping and screaming trying to get into our yard while two other guys who had cooler heads were trying to keep him back. This went on for a loooong 5 minutes and later on there were people arguing here and there. I take of my coat expecting the worst as some of them continue to shout at us and that we have no right accusing them and such and all that. Then security comes...my mom called them in to deflate the situation and that's when we go back into the house while tempers were still flaring outside. We all sit by the sala again...but no one says anything. A little later, my parents talk about how it was "handled" and how it will be resolved, and who's fault it really was blah, blah, blah...then everybody except me and an older brother slept after that. We watched tv till 4...
Most likely, this is what really happened. My crazy brothers left some firecrackers outside unattended, and when the neighbors started celebrating the new year with fireworks, it couldnt be avoided that cinders and strays would reach our yard by accident and ignited our firecrackers. My mom made the mistake of shouting accusations too quickly, too soon; and my dad made the mistake of dashing into the neighbors house with half-baked facts, which was an invitiation to escalate the situation outta proportion. We would have had our asses handed to us if it ended in a brawl, and we would have deserved it.
Anyway...
Happy new year to everybody!
....
"If growing up is the process of creating ideas and dreams about what life should be, then maturity is letting go again."-Mary Beth Danielson