Wednesday, March 21, 2007
I can't help but think about how women would talk and think whenever they are with their companions, their circle of friends. Yes I know, some girls may be flexible and can act normally around their boy friends (boyfriends also included), but they cannot hide the fact that they'd still behave differently when we are finally out of the scene. Sometimes, I'd see them murmuring and pointing people out in the middle of their conversation, while wearing their 'Dalagang Pilipina' smiles; a typical scene everywhere I go. I became too curious to know the reason behind those pretty smiles in their faces, that I wanted to become like them, even just for a day.
Since I was a small child, being a girl (or being with girls) has always been my wish. Now that twelve years have gone by, the thought still baffles me. I wanted to be a girl one day (Or was I a girl one day?). Don't get me wrong though, I wanted to, but I cannot, and I will not. Though in one desperate attempt, I tried being with them for almost half a day, only to see failure spank me in the face and hit me straight in the eye.
After trying to join them wherever they want to stroll (that includes bringing their bags along with me), standing and waiting for at least twenty minutes outside the door of the girl'sCR restroom washroom whatever they call it, (making me more interested on what is concealed behind that door) everything just got more complicated. And still, at the end of the day, I just became a slave, perhaps a specimen for the 'evil plans' (excuse me for the term) that they’ve always wanted to try doing to us guys. Afraid as ever, the coward in me comes out whenever I am with them (the girls).
Being with them is easier said than done, that even talking would seem to be like conversing with three-year olds, (maybe that is why gays are around, for translation purposes) making it more fun to be a woman, or so I thought it to be. I do not know how or why, but I managed to build better relationships with girls than I did with guys. And I can't help but wonder how I did that. There's something in me that comes out everytime I think about it. I feel an aura that engulfs me, as if I was a woman myself in my past life. Mysterious as ever, girls always knock me off my feet.
Perhaps this is just paranoia that's trying to kill me. Perhaps this is just caused by being around twenty two ladies in our OT block. As I have tackled in a previous entry, sometimes they even ask me out on what's the real deal with my gender. Still, my curiosity starts to deepen as the days pass by. But instead of having the answer that I wanted, another mystery comes up and the answer I'm waiting for still evades my clumsy hands. Perhaps trying to coax the answer will not do me any good. Hopefully, the time will come that whatever it is I'm looking for just springs unbidden in my lap.
Women, they never cease to amaze me. Still, I guess I'll never be able to understand them. That is still debatable, though.
*to put this entry it in simple Tagalog terms, "Ang hirap lang talagang intindihin ng mga babae." I'm just kidding. ;)
Since I was a small child, being a girl (or being with girls) has always been my wish. Now that twelve years have gone by, the thought still baffles me. I wanted to be a girl one day (Or was I a girl one day?). Don't get me wrong though, I wanted to, but I cannot, and I will not. Though in one desperate attempt, I tried being with them for almost half a day, only to see failure spank me in the face and hit me straight in the eye.
After trying to join them wherever they want to stroll (that includes bringing their bags along with me), standing and waiting for at least twenty minutes outside the door of the girl's
Being with them is easier said than done, that even talking would seem to be like conversing with three-year olds, (maybe that is why gays are around, for translation purposes) making it more fun to be a woman, or so I thought it to be. I do not know how or why, but I managed to build better relationships with girls than I did with guys. And I can't help but wonder how I did that. There's something in me that comes out everytime I think about it. I feel an aura that engulfs me, as if I was a woman myself in my past life. Mysterious as ever, girls always knock me off my feet.
Perhaps this is just paranoia that's trying to kill me. Perhaps this is just caused by being around twenty two ladies in our OT block. As I have tackled in a previous entry, sometimes they even ask me out on what's the real deal with my gender. Still, my curiosity starts to deepen as the days pass by. But instead of having the answer that I wanted, another mystery comes up and the answer I'm waiting for still evades my clumsy hands. Perhaps trying to coax the answer will not do me any good. Hopefully, the time will come that whatever it is I'm looking for just springs unbidden in my lap.
Women, they never cease to amaze me. Still, I guess I'll never be able to understand them. That is still debatable, though.
*to put this entry it in simple Tagalog terms, "Ang hirap lang talagang intindihin ng mga babae." I'm just kidding. ;)
Labels: write ups
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Somewhere in the world, two people's lives were intertwined by fate. Two less complicated souls, merged into one lifestream and became one big problem, well, at least for one of them. They had a complicated understanding, one that even the best psychologists (possibly all the gists you can think of) could not explain comprehensively. It was one of its kind.
Their situation was homicidal. Never did the guy understand what was happening to them (well, at least to him). He wanted to ask for some help, but still that help was nowhere to be found. He was stuck in the middle of a big obstacle course of life, confused on where to go and what to do. Still, he took everything for granted. Now he's about to suffer the consequences. What's more is that the girl doesn't know a thing about it. (Or so he hopes.) She was part of a big problem without even realizing the perils that she is about to face. Perhaps he had commited another sin to her, like what he always did. A friendship forged was about to be broken yet again. What he does hope is that it's for the better, though.
They were both innocent people, involved in such an obscure situation. They were simple dreamveavers, but their silk both got entangled in one web. They were once traveling on a straightforward roadtrip, but the path suddenly forked ahead of them. Confusion sinks in. Now, they are baffled by the circumstances. The fun is just starting, and I guess it would not be nice if someone was to spoil it.
Who's to be blamed? What's going to happen to them? Even I, the ill-fated writer of this complex story of their lives, do not know the answer to these questions.
Their situation was homicidal. Never did the guy understand what was happening to them (well, at least to him). He wanted to ask for some help, but still that help was nowhere to be found. He was stuck in the middle of a big obstacle course of life, confused on where to go and what to do. Still, he took everything for granted. Now he's about to suffer the consequences. What's more is that the girl doesn't know a thing about it. (Or so he hopes.) She was part of a big problem without even realizing the perils that she is about to face. Perhaps he had commited another sin to her, like what he always did. A friendship forged was about to be broken yet again. What he does hope is that it's for the better, though.
They were both innocent people, involved in such an obscure situation. They were simple dreamveavers, but their silk both got entangled in one web. They were once traveling on a straightforward roadtrip, but the path suddenly forked ahead of them. Confusion sinks in. Now, they are baffled by the circumstances. The fun is just starting, and I guess it would not be nice if someone was to spoil it.
Who's to be blamed? What's going to happen to them? Even I, the ill-fated writer of this complex story of their lives, do not know the answer to these questions.
Labels: random thoughts, write ups
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
An only child that I am, I've always wondered how it feels like to have a sibling, older or more preferably younger than me. I was envious to those who have been gifted with at least one, though they always say that it's not that much of a gift at all. Sure, being the center of attention of your parents is a good ( when I say good, it's really good ) thing, but I always wanted to have a sibling, just one, perhaps even in my imaginary life. The thought did not escape my mind ever since.
And then, she came along.
Everything happened in a flash. Once upon a time, somewhere in the world, we were simply friends and classmates, but soon enough we became close to each other. I do not know why or how it happened, though. One thing that I know was that we shared a common frustration: having an older sibling. She was a real time elder sister to 2 girls, and I, as mentioned earlier, was an only child. Just to my surprise, we were suddenly calling ourselves 'ate' and 'kuya' the next day. She became my sister, younger and older at the same time. Everything was never the same again after that.
Since then, we had a what I call 'sibling understanding,' much like the way realtime siblings act to each other, but in a less complicated perspective. We would be sharing our secrets, trusting the other not to tell it to anybody and promising it as well. Texting was our only way to do it, as you all know that we do not really live under the same roof. Texting reminders was also a must. From eating lunch up until dinner, to sleeping early, ( though I don't do it always ) these messages were never out of my phone inbox every single day. Funny that it makes me think a second time if we're really 'parents,' of each other, rather than just simple 'siblings.'
But like what is in reality, a so-called sibling rivalry was, as always, inevitable. Though at our age, we ( at least myself ) we're still acting like young children twelve years back. We'd fight over petty things, and have a little quarrel over it for at least an hour. Though most of the time it's just simple drama, sometimes it's for real. In both cases, I am always the bad boy: she never did anything bad against me. I was always 'fighting' her, well, of course not literally. Not to mention myself teasing her about every flaw that I see in her, though I know she'd always fight back. Maybe we ( or it was just I ) would have some laughs, but deep inside I was hurting her, and she was crying. This always happens. I guess that's the reason why I do not have a sibling in real life.
As for me though, I would still be there promising her by sending text messages ( our medium ) that I would never do it again and all that, only to know that I'm going to break that promise the next day. Whatever happened the last time would happen again. ( But this time, I really promise her not to break promises, or better yet, not make a promise at all. ) Though still, at the end of the day, everything is then back to its 'normal' state, as if nothing happened between us at all. We'd still be siblings that we were from the start. Or so I hope.
Well then, for the many ( most of them bad ) things that I have done to her and the many good things that she has done for me, I guess I owe her an apology somehow. And, she really deserves it. It may not be that much, but I hope I could make it up to her.
Perhaps having an imaginary sibling was better than a real one after all. She was now my sister. Forever. So.
And then, she came along.
Everything happened in a flash. Once upon a time, somewhere in the world, we were simply friends and classmates, but soon enough we became close to each other. I do not know why or how it happened, though. One thing that I know was that we shared a common frustration: having an older sibling. She was a real time elder sister to 2 girls, and I, as mentioned earlier, was an only child. Just to my surprise, we were suddenly calling ourselves 'ate' and 'kuya' the next day. She became my sister, younger and older at the same time. Everything was never the same again after that.
Since then, we had a what I call 'sibling understanding,' much like the way realtime siblings act to each other, but in a less complicated perspective. We would be sharing our secrets, trusting the other not to tell it to anybody and promising it as well. Texting was our only way to do it, as you all know that we do not really live under the same roof. Texting reminders was also a must. From eating lunch up until dinner, to sleeping early, ( though I don't do it always ) these messages were never out of my phone inbox every single day. Funny that it makes me think a second time if we're really 'parents,' of each other, rather than just simple 'siblings.'
But like what is in reality, a so-called sibling rivalry was, as always, inevitable. Though at our age, we ( at least myself ) we're still acting like young children twelve years back. We'd fight over petty things, and have a little quarrel over it for at least an hour. Though most of the time it's just simple drama, sometimes it's for real. In both cases, I am always the bad boy: she never did anything bad against me. I was always 'fighting' her, well, of course not literally. Not to mention myself teasing her about every flaw that I see in her, though I know she'd always fight back. Maybe we ( or it was just I ) would have some laughs, but deep inside I was hurting her, and she was crying. This always happens. I guess that's the reason why I do not have a sibling in real life.
As for me though, I would still be there promising her by sending text messages ( our medium ) that I would never do it again and all that, only to know that I'm going to break that promise the next day. Whatever happened the last time would happen again. ( But this time, I really promise her not to break promises, or better yet, not make a promise at all. ) Though still, at the end of the day, everything is then back to its 'normal' state, as if nothing happened between us at all. We'd still be siblings that we were from the start. Or so I hope.
Well then, for the many ( most of them bad ) things that I have done to her and the many good things that she has done for me, I guess I owe her an apology somehow. And, she really deserves it. It may not be that much, but I hope I could make it up to her.
To you my dear 'sister':
Sorry and thank you for everything. Just remember that I will always be here as your 'kuya' and I do hope that you will also be my 'ate' always. Thanks for touching my life.
Sincerely,
your dearest 'brother,' Arnel
Perhaps having an imaginary sibling was better than a real one after all. She was now my sister. Forever. So.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
It was back in my high school years when I met her. She was a new face in the campus, perhaps an exchange student. I noticed that her eyes were laughing blue.
There was something different about her. She did not know how to get sore, or if she did she seldom showed it. She would smile at you whatever you would say, or laugh her clean and youthful laughter. I was always spellbound whenever she does that. Whenever she smiles at me (or at least I thought she did), I couldn't help but smile at her, too.
Since then, I had a mission: to befriend her. Sure it was easy, since we were classmates and she was very easy to approach. All the boys in class were her friends already, including myself. But I wanted to go beyond that. I wanted to be close to her than any other boys in class, or even in school.
After some time, we became closer to each other. We shared a lot of characteristics, one of which was laughing over small things. Everyday we'd talk about anything while going to school. I became used to walking and laughing by her side. I thought everything was going fine then. Then I guess, I was wrong.
But at the beginning of the next term, she suddenly became pensive. There was a problem, I thought to myself. Something was the matter, and I was touched to see her so quiet and lonely.
"I haven't heard your laugh for a week now. There is nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Nothing, nothing at all."
But deep inside her, I saw there was. As the days went by, the loneliness in her eyes got deeper and deeper and I felt bad whenever I look at her now. She was totally different from the one whom I knew before, she was a total stranger in front of me now. The laughter on her face was now gone.
Questions clouded my mind, unformed and merely hinted. I kept asking myself over again but still, I couldn't have a definite answer. I would rather find it out myself, or if I can't, I must make her laugh one more time, at least.
One afternoon on our way back from school I decided to start the small confrontation.
"There is something wrong. You haven't even smiled in weeks. Mind if I try to make you laugh again?"
She smiled wanly.
"Sure, but seriously there is nothing wrong with me. It's just that I don't feel like laughing over anything at all. At least, for now."
That was it. When one doesn't feel like laughing, there must be something wrong. But I could not think of anything to make her laugh again. My tongue was at a loss for words, I was totally speechless. Back then, it was easy to say something laughable but everything got tangled up in my mind and nothing would come out - nothing laughable at all. Suddenly, she stopped walking and held onto my arm.
"What's the matter?" I asked, bewildered.
"Nothing, I hope." she said softly.
But soon she felt faint and she sank slowly in the grass, biting her lip. I was quick by her side. I took placed her head in my lap. I was calling her name, almost in tears, but still she was not answering. She was pale and her sweat was cold as ice. All at once, she clutched her sides and threw up. I stared in terror and could not say a thing. And then, she broke the long silence.
"Please, take me home now." she whispered, wiping her lips.
"Okay, then."
I held her clammy hand and led her down the street. We parted ways since that day. It was the end of the term, and she had to go back to the States, perhaps for her treatment.
Days later, she died of a quite rare disease. When I went to their home, her mother told me: "Before she took her final breath, she told me to give you this." Then, she handed me a small note, written on a fine white paper.
Two big tears coursed slowly down my cheeks.
Her laughter will always be remembered. I'll never forget that she once became a part of my life. Most of all, I will always love her.
There was something different about her. She did not know how to get sore, or if she did she seldom showed it. She would smile at you whatever you would say, or laugh her clean and youthful laughter. I was always spellbound whenever she does that. Whenever she smiles at me (or at least I thought she did), I couldn't help but smile at her, too.
Since then, I had a mission: to befriend her. Sure it was easy, since we were classmates and she was very easy to approach. All the boys in class were her friends already, including myself. But I wanted to go beyond that. I wanted to be close to her than any other boys in class, or even in school.
After some time, we became closer to each other. We shared a lot of characteristics, one of which was laughing over small things. Everyday we'd talk about anything while going to school. I became used to walking and laughing by her side. I thought everything was going fine then. Then I guess, I was wrong.
But at the beginning of the next term, she suddenly became pensive. There was a problem, I thought to myself. Something was the matter, and I was touched to see her so quiet and lonely.
"I haven't heard your laugh for a week now. There is nothing wrong, I hope?"
"Nothing, nothing at all."
But deep inside her, I saw there was. As the days went by, the loneliness in her eyes got deeper and deeper and I felt bad whenever I look at her now. She was totally different from the one whom I knew before, she was a total stranger in front of me now. The laughter on her face was now gone.
Questions clouded my mind, unformed and merely hinted. I kept asking myself over again but still, I couldn't have a definite answer. I would rather find it out myself, or if I can't, I must make her laugh one more time, at least.
One afternoon on our way back from school I decided to start the small confrontation.
"There is something wrong. You haven't even smiled in weeks. Mind if I try to make you laugh again?"
She smiled wanly.
"Sure, but seriously there is nothing wrong with me. It's just that I don't feel like laughing over anything at all. At least, for now."
That was it. When one doesn't feel like laughing, there must be something wrong. But I could not think of anything to make her laugh again. My tongue was at a loss for words, I was totally speechless. Back then, it was easy to say something laughable but everything got tangled up in my mind and nothing would come out - nothing laughable at all. Suddenly, she stopped walking and held onto my arm.
"What's the matter?" I asked, bewildered.
"Nothing, I hope." she said softly.
But soon she felt faint and she sank slowly in the grass, biting her lip. I was quick by her side. I took placed her head in my lap. I was calling her name, almost in tears, but still she was not answering. She was pale and her sweat was cold as ice. All at once, she clutched her sides and threw up. I stared in terror and could not say a thing. And then, she broke the long silence.
"Please, take me home now." she whispered, wiping her lips.
"Okay, then."
I held her clammy hand and led her down the street. We parted ways since that day. It was the end of the term, and she had to go back to the States, perhaps for her treatment.
Days later, she died of a quite rare disease. When I went to their home, her mother told me: "Before she took her final breath, she told me to give you this." Then, she handed me a small note, written on a fine white paper.
"I was glad that I shared a part of my life with you. Thanks for the fun and laughter. Thanks for everything, really."
Two big tears coursed slowly down my cheeks.
Her laughter will always be remembered. I'll never forget that she once became a part of my life. Most of all, I will always love her.
Labels: fiction, short story, write ups
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Cold gusts of wind were blowing everywhere, sending shivers down the spine of every person roaming outside. (I guess that would also include you, my dear reader.) The numbing of your whole body seems to render you incapable of doing anything at all, and that insatiable feeling of ecstasy continues to drown you in a huge ocean of air. You're on a high all of a sudden.
That cool and gentle breeze, it changed the atmosphere instantly: everything was never the same. The quietness of the day was shattered by the sudden slaps of the wind on the boughs and leaves, making them flutter and dance in mid-air, swirling around before falling helplessly in the cold ground.
After a long and tiring day, feeling the wind blow right in your face relaxes your mind. It sends you to yet another world, totally different from the realities of the world outside. Your soul sends a message, it wants to blend with the cool breeze, and leave your fatigued body behind. The wind invites you to rest, and simply throw everything away. It's like having an addiction. You're high with the wind.
That high feeling, as if you were floating in air, makes you 'fly' for a moment and leave your worries behind. Nothing can stop you now, it's only between you and the wind. It whispers something in your ear, something that calls to mind so tender, but heartwarming nonetheless. The wind lets you forget everything, making you numb inside out. The sensation that you feel, its incomparable to anything else. It's one of a kind.
Don't you just want everything to stay like this forever?
*(sorry for another lame post. i'll do better next time.)
That cool and gentle breeze, it changed the atmosphere instantly: everything was never the same. The quietness of the day was shattered by the sudden slaps of the wind on the boughs and leaves, making them flutter and dance in mid-air, swirling around before falling helplessly in the cold ground.
After a long and tiring day, feeling the wind blow right in your face relaxes your mind. It sends you to yet another world, totally different from the realities of the world outside. Your soul sends a message, it wants to blend with the cool breeze, and leave your fatigued body behind. The wind invites you to rest, and simply throw everything away. It's like having an addiction. You're high with the wind.
That high feeling, as if you were floating in air, makes you 'fly' for a moment and leave your worries behind. Nothing can stop you now, it's only between you and the wind. It whispers something in your ear, something that calls to mind so tender, but heartwarming nonetheless. The wind lets you forget everything, making you numb inside out. The sensation that you feel, its incomparable to anything else. It's one of a kind.
Don't you just want everything to stay like this forever?
*(sorry for another lame post. i'll do better next time.)
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Suddenly it was evening. Windows were flung open in hope of wind, but there was none. The tense, afternoon air was still trapped inside the house. The cicadas shrilled in the dusty trees, and the fireflies fluttered about in the dim part of the empty lot beside our home, vague and restless in the twilight.
The moon slowly ascended above the houses, swollen and yellow in the young evening. Darkness rose like a mist from the yard. Beyond the halo of the street lamp, the leaves of the trees had caught the first ray of the moon; a radiance that was spreading in the sky. The moon was gradually brightening and silvering.
The clean moonlight finally gleamed down upon the town. It looked majestic up in the night sky, making the leaves look like sheathed daggers and silver robes. As I walked in the moon-white empy streets, past the mute shuttered houses, I sensed something cold. The wind finally blew a strong gust, one that would send shivers down your spine. The wind shattered the stillness of the hour, the moon and the wind were like comrades together, against the huge, deep and silver night.
The moon had completely transformed the town. The streets looked wider and cleaner, the lights of the cars added up a patch of light in the darkness of the night. The houses assumed loveliness in the wash of the moonlight. As I gazed up at the moon; the moon would lift me up, soaring away to the center of the night. For a moment, it was only between the moon and myself, alive with light. I could feel the moon's heart beating.
Here I am once again, dreaming under the bright and soundless moonlight sky.
*sorry for the lame post (as I see it)
The moon slowly ascended above the houses, swollen and yellow in the young evening. Darkness rose like a mist from the yard. Beyond the halo of the street lamp, the leaves of the trees had caught the first ray of the moon; a radiance that was spreading in the sky. The moon was gradually brightening and silvering.
The clean moonlight finally gleamed down upon the town. It looked majestic up in the night sky, making the leaves look like sheathed daggers and silver robes. As I walked in the moon-white empy streets, past the mute shuttered houses, I sensed something cold. The wind finally blew a strong gust, one that would send shivers down your spine. The wind shattered the stillness of the hour, the moon and the wind were like comrades together, against the huge, deep and silver night.
The moon had completely transformed the town. The streets looked wider and cleaner, the lights of the cars added up a patch of light in the darkness of the night. The houses assumed loveliness in the wash of the moonlight. As I gazed up at the moon; the moon would lift me up, soaring away to the center of the night. For a moment, it was only between the moon and myself, alive with light. I could feel the moon's heart beating.
Here I am once again, dreaming under the bright and soundless moonlight sky.
*sorry for the lame post (as I see it)
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Papers and folders were everywhere in my computer desk, waiting to be read. Books from high school and college were piled in the same rack, not to mention those notebooks with corny stickers that have my name printed on them. The phone's headset is still plugged in my ears, playing songs randomly. My gaze wandered through the room, only to see that I was the only one left downstairs.
Gathering up my things for tomorrow, I tried to go up to my room and sleep. I lay myself down on the queen-size bed, putting away all the day's frustrations, hassles and pressure, and still trying to text everyone a morning message, looking for another person who also broke the rule of having a normal sleeping time. After waiting for a few minutes, still there was no reply. Perhaps I was the only one awake this time. After realizing that, I tried to close my eyes. I tried.
Forty minutes have gone by, and still my eyes were open, wandering aimlessly through the darkness of the room, illuminated lightly by the lamp post at the sidewalk. Though my muscles were weary and aching, I was still able to sit up, walk and go downstairs. After turning on the lights, I picked up a pack of chips from the cabinet, and got another bottle of red iced tea from the refrigerator. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for the system to start up, checked my phone for messages. Success. Someone was still alive, at this time of the day. It was 1:12 AM, and the hands of the clock were continously ticking. I only have about 4 hours left to sleep, but it's not yet time to do that. I just can't.
After finishing the light meal, here I am, typing this blasted blog entry, still desperately trying to sleep even in the computer chair. I tried to played slow songs in the player, but still no good. I read some of the handouts in Histo 2, but still I was able to finish them without getting sleepy. I turned off the lights, leaving the job of shedding light on the room to the LCD of the computer monitor. The room was filled with darkness again. I didn't have the strength to go back up anymore, so I decided to stay downstairs and wait until the feeling creeps in.
Alas, I had the perfect time for sleep. After taking a final glance at the silvery white moon outside and also my phone's clock, at 2:40 AM, finally my eyes were like on a kaleidoscope, spinning around. At last, it is time. With barely two hours of sleep, I still have to wake up early tomorrow morning, or should I say later at 5:00 AM, as soon as the alarm from my phone goes off. Until then, I'll have to keep my eyes closed.
So, yes, good night.
Gathering up my things for tomorrow, I tried to go up to my room and sleep. I lay myself down on the queen-size bed, putting away all the day's frustrations, hassles and pressure, and still trying to text everyone a morning message, looking for another person who also broke the rule of having a normal sleeping time. After waiting for a few minutes, still there was no reply. Perhaps I was the only one awake this time. After realizing that, I tried to close my eyes. I tried.
Forty minutes have gone by, and still my eyes were open, wandering aimlessly through the darkness of the room, illuminated lightly by the lamp post at the sidewalk. Though my muscles were weary and aching, I was still able to sit up, walk and go downstairs. After turning on the lights, I picked up a pack of chips from the cabinet, and got another bottle of red iced tea from the refrigerator. I turned on the computer, and while waiting for the system to start up, checked my phone for messages. Success. Someone was still alive, at this time of the day. It was 1:12 AM, and the hands of the clock were continously ticking. I only have about 4 hours left to sleep, but it's not yet time to do that. I just can't.
After finishing the light meal, here I am, typing this blasted blog entry, still desperately trying to sleep even in the computer chair. I tried to played slow songs in the player, but still no good. I read some of the handouts in Histo 2, but still I was able to finish them without getting sleepy. I turned off the lights, leaving the job of shedding light on the room to the LCD of the computer monitor. The room was filled with darkness again. I didn't have the strength to go back up anymore, so I decided to stay downstairs and wait until the feeling creeps in.
Alas, I had the perfect time for sleep. After taking a final glance at the silvery white moon outside and also my phone's clock, at 2:40 AM, finally my eyes were like on a kaleidoscope, spinning around. At last, it is time. With barely two hours of sleep, I still have to wake up early tomorrow morning, or should I say later at 5:00 AM, as soon as the alarm from my phone goes off. Until then, I'll have to keep my eyes closed.
So, yes, good night.
Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Approximately twelve days before our most awaited day of Christmas, the little children of Manila set on a journey to earn some money for themselves.
After the glorious sun has set in the long stretch of sea and hope of Roxas Boulevard, these children seem to dominate the city at night. There would be children in almost every spot of the metropolitan. You'd see them playing patintero with the jeepneys, carrying some things (definitely not toys) with them, not minding the fact that their lives are in big danger.
Walking barefoot amid the most perilous streets of Metropolitan Manila, they would start hopping onto jeepneys and singing out-of-tune Christmas carols to passengers inside, as if they were concert performers in the grandest auditorium. Their rugged clothes add up pity to their innocent faces, catching the attention of every passenger, and waking those who fell asleep due to the long trip. With their improvised tambourines made of cola crowns in hand, the children's little 'show' is now about to begin.
Grabbing the opportunity while the jeepneys are at full stop, they'd do this routine for six long hours until midnight, or until they have earned what they wanted. They wouldn't mind whether their songs are out-of-tune or not, still obviously they are tired of doing it everytime. Earning twenty pesos per jeepney is truly a lucky day for them, perhaps. Some would care to give a peso, but most passengers would not pay attention to their pitiful faces and look far away in the horizon until the unfortunate children have jumped off the jeepney, empty-handed.
Yes, we may be starting to feel the Christmas season but unfortunately, these children don't. When we're at the malls buying gifts for our loved ones, they are still out in the streets waiting for Lady Luck to come their way. We may be tired of shopping yet still happy because we got what we wanted, but these children aren't. They are both tired and still hungry, not only for food, but also for the love and care that they never had.
What's going to happen to them, to our so-called pag-asa ng bayan is a question, sadly, left unanswered.
*Advanced Merry Christmas, everyone.
After the glorious sun has set in the long stretch of sea and hope of Roxas Boulevard, these children seem to dominate the city at night. There would be children in almost every spot of the metropolitan. You'd see them playing patintero with the jeepneys, carrying some things (definitely not toys) with them, not minding the fact that their lives are in big danger.
Walking barefoot amid the most perilous streets of Metropolitan Manila, they would start hopping onto jeepneys and singing out-of-tune Christmas carols to passengers inside, as if they were concert performers in the grandest auditorium. Their rugged clothes add up pity to their innocent faces, catching the attention of every passenger, and waking those who fell asleep due to the long trip. With their improvised tambourines made of cola crowns in hand, the children's little 'show' is now about to begin.
"tayo nahaaaa giliw (hah!), magsalo na tayoohoo, meron na tayong tinaahapay haat (hah!) kesohoo.. di ba nochis buenas sa gabing itooh, at bukaahas ay araw ng paskoooohoo..."
Grabbing the opportunity while the jeepneys are at full stop, they'd do this routine for six long hours until midnight, or until they have earned what they wanted. They wouldn't mind whether their songs are out-of-tune or not, still obviously they are tired of doing it everytime. Earning twenty pesos per jeepney is truly a lucky day for them, perhaps. Some would care to give a peso, but most passengers would not pay attention to their pitiful faces and look far away in the horizon until the unfortunate children have jumped off the jeepney, empty-handed.
Yes, we may be starting to feel the Christmas season but unfortunately, these children don't. When we're at the malls buying gifts for our loved ones, they are still out in the streets waiting for Lady Luck to come their way. We may be tired of shopping yet still happy because we got what we wanted, but these children aren't. They are both tired and still hungry, not only for food, but also for the love and care that they never had.
What's going to happen to them, to our so-called pag-asa ng bayan is a question, sadly, left unanswered.
*Advanced Merry Christmas, everyone.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Amidst the hustle and bustle, the commercialism, materialism, the exhaustion, excesses and extravagance that may engulf us Filipinos come Christmas time; the holiday that has always been waited for by every people in the country, we Filipinos recognize it as a day of rest and pleasure - a day to get acquainted with each other, a day to recall old memories, a day for our social amenities.
Yuletide begins unofficially as soon as the 'BER' (yes, 'ber,' not 'burr') months come into being. Gusts of wind start to blow starting September, accompanied by rains brought about by the southwest monsoon. It starts right at the heels of the rainy season. The countdown to Christmas then begins.
Anticipation for the Christmas season slowly permeate the air. The shops, stalls and malls, big or small, start to lay out their Christmas wares - greeting cards, pine trees, trimmings, lights and lanterns. You may even find them alongside the past Halloween items, until the brief interlude ends. After the break, all the city streets, building facades, homes and backyards are spruced and spiced up as the country erupts with another festival of lights.
People now begin their treks to the malls, taking advantage of bargains and sales, mostly for gift giving and those new dresses, and new pairs of shoes that are a 'must' for the holidays. Even carnivals, with the latest amusement rides, fun games, magic shows and more shopping stalls, sprout like mushrooms in the city.
As early as Undas, families start decorating their homes with Christmas lights and lanterns, making their homes real-life Christmas trees, aside from the real ones inside them. Some play Christmas songs in their players, specially "White Christmas," because sadly, we Filipinos could only dream about it. In our country where temperature rarely drops below 15 degrees even in the coolest month of December, snow can and will never be seen anywhere: not even in Baguio.
One week before Christmas, some embark on a journey to their barangays or villages to sing some common christmas carols to their neighbors, with their improvised drums, and triangles in hand. We call them carolings, and of course the performers themselves, the carolers. Some do it as a group/club (like a church youth group) to raise money. Children do it more like a "trick or treat" for a few coins ("hihingi po ng aginaldo.."), five to ten pesos will make them joyous because of the fact you 'enjoyed' the performance that they rendered to you. Sometimes, you may even see them again singing in front of your homes perhaps because you gave them a 'reasonable' price the last time they performed in front of your doors.
Christmas parties are now also organized by groups of people in villages and schools, not forgetting to include the kris kringle (exchange gifts) in the event. Usually, only a certain number of people are invited in these parties, but more often than not, mobs of people come in, unexpectedly. Try to invite less than twenty persons in the party and you'd still have twenty more to come. Luckily, event organizers are prepared for things like this. Some of the people who come in bring their own food, to share with everybody, evidence of the spirit of bayanihan, which is still present in our hearts.
But actually, the 16th day of December marks the official beginning of the season with the Misa de Aguinaldo (Gift Masses) or what we commonly call the Simbang Gabi, usually held before the break of dawn. A nine-day long devotion lasting until the 24th, the simbang gabi is the test of dedication for the Filipinos who keep the tradition. After the mass, stalls of bibingka and puto bumbong, native rice delicacies are waiting for flocks of buyers of these 'Christmas-only' fares. Parents even use them to convince their kids to join them in their nights of prayer. When Christmas Eve comes, the midnight of December 24, People will once again fill the churches for the Misa de Gallo (Mass of the Rooster), when church bells ring amidst joyous strains of Gloria in celebration for the birth of our Savior.
After the mass, Filipino families immediately return to their homes to partake of the Noche Buena. It is a feast composed of the remnants of the Philippines' colonial past. Combine them with our very own native fares, and you'll have a very special treat for the family. Still, a simple meal will do just as well; afterall, being together has a greater importance than anything else. Many families take advantage of the occasion to organize reunions and other family affairs. Some relatives outside the country take the time (and money) to call their families for a heartwarming gift: their voices. They all come together to share in the laughter, nostalgia, festivities, and the meal itself. After the dinner, members gather around the Christmas tree to open their gifts. And by the time they retire, it is already into the early hours of the Philippines' hot, noisy, and long Christmas, December 25.
Well, at this age, I guess we shouldn't be waiting for Santa Clause to come in to our homes anymore.
*24 days to go until Christmas comes, one more hour and it will continue to go down to 23 days. :)
Yuletide begins unofficially as soon as the 'BER' (yes, 'ber,' not 'burr') months come into being. Gusts of wind start to blow starting September, accompanied by rains brought about by the southwest monsoon. It starts right at the heels of the rainy season. The countdown to Christmas then begins.
Anticipation for the Christmas season slowly permeate the air. The shops, stalls and malls, big or small, start to lay out their Christmas wares - greeting cards, pine trees, trimmings, lights and lanterns. You may even find them alongside the past Halloween items, until the brief interlude ends. After the break, all the city streets, building facades, homes and backyards are spruced and spiced up as the country erupts with another festival of lights.
People now begin their treks to the malls, taking advantage of bargains and sales, mostly for gift giving and those new dresses, and new pairs of shoes that are a 'must' for the holidays. Even carnivals, with the latest amusement rides, fun games, magic shows and more shopping stalls, sprout like mushrooms in the city.
As early as Undas, families start decorating their homes with Christmas lights and lanterns, making their homes real-life Christmas trees, aside from the real ones inside them. Some play Christmas songs in their players, specially "White Christmas," because sadly, we Filipinos could only dream about it. In our country where temperature rarely drops below 15 degrees even in the coolest month of December, snow can and will never be seen anywhere: not even in Baguio.
One week before Christmas, some embark on a journey to their barangays or villages to sing some common christmas carols to their neighbors, with their improvised drums, and triangles in hand. We call them carolings, and of course the performers themselves, the carolers. Some do it as a group/club (like a church youth group) to raise money. Children do it more like a "trick or treat" for a few coins ("hihingi po ng aginaldo.."), five to ten pesos will make them joyous because of the fact you 'enjoyed' the performance that they rendered to you. Sometimes, you may even see them again singing in front of your homes perhaps because you gave them a 'reasonable' price the last time they performed in front of your doors.
Christmas parties are now also organized by groups of people in villages and schools, not forgetting to include the kris kringle (exchange gifts) in the event. Usually, only a certain number of people are invited in these parties, but more often than not, mobs of people come in, unexpectedly. Try to invite less than twenty persons in the party and you'd still have twenty more to come. Luckily, event organizers are prepared for things like this. Some of the people who come in bring their own food, to share with everybody, evidence of the spirit of bayanihan, which is still present in our hearts.
But actually, the 16th day of December marks the official beginning of the season with the Misa de Aguinaldo (Gift Masses) or what we commonly call the Simbang Gabi, usually held before the break of dawn. A nine-day long devotion lasting until the 24th, the simbang gabi is the test of dedication for the Filipinos who keep the tradition. After the mass, stalls of bibingka and puto bumbong, native rice delicacies are waiting for flocks of buyers of these 'Christmas-only' fares. Parents even use them to convince their kids to join them in their nights of prayer. When Christmas Eve comes, the midnight of December 24, People will once again fill the churches for the Misa de Gallo (Mass of the Rooster), when church bells ring amidst joyous strains of Gloria in celebration for the birth of our Savior.
After the mass, Filipino families immediately return to their homes to partake of the Noche Buena. It is a feast composed of the remnants of the Philippines' colonial past. Combine them with our very own native fares, and you'll have a very special treat for the family. Still, a simple meal will do just as well; afterall, being together has a greater importance than anything else. Many families take advantage of the occasion to organize reunions and other family affairs. Some relatives outside the country take the time (and money) to call their families for a heartwarming gift: their voices. They all come together to share in the laughter, nostalgia, festivities, and the meal itself. After the dinner, members gather around the Christmas tree to open their gifts. And by the time they retire, it is already into the early hours of the Philippines' hot, noisy, and long Christmas, December 25.
Well, at this age, I guess we shouldn't be waiting for Santa Clause to come in to our homes anymore.
*24 days to go until Christmas comes, one more hour and it will continue to go down to 23 days. :)
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Everyone we meet in the world is fighting a hard battle like we do. There are people everywhere who are in need of a good word, perhaps an uplifting compliment to fire their hopes and dreams in life. Giving them true words of encouragement is the best thing to do.
Be sincere and simple. Don't you remember repeating someone's (perhaps your really special someone.) admiring words over and over again, without losing the boost they give? Mark Twain once said that he could live for two months on just one good compliment. But, there is more to a compliment than flattery. An insincere compliment may sweeten the tongue, but it also sours the stomach. A flowery phrase is usually unnecessary. Simple but sincere compliments will do.
Be sensitive to the time and place. A word spoken in right circumstances can have a tremendous impact on the life of a person. Even a little nod of acknowledgement given deftly, at the right moment, can stir a soul. If you are watching the NBA, PBA, or even an ordinary basketball game, you'll see players wink or nod to each other whenever they score after receiving the ball.
Recall your personal examples of struggle. Some of us may always believe that successful people never made any mistakes, but that's not so. Anyone facing dificulty needs to be reminded that challenges and failures haunt us all, on any given time. Nobody's perfect, after all.
Take time. Any unthinking compliments of ecncouragements won't do. These compliments do not have the power to move, even when they are really meant. A real encouragement is much like a well-written letter, prepared and thought over before sealing and sending.
Encouragement is simple. It may be a single word, a compliment, or even a pep talk. Take a look around you. Pick someone out. Then, just give them the best you've got. There is no need for a sermon or a special advice: just fine words of encouragement.
The right words, at the right time, can work wonders. Always remember that.
Be sincere and simple. Don't you remember repeating someone's (perhaps your really special someone.) admiring words over and over again, without losing the boost they give? Mark Twain once said that he could live for two months on just one good compliment. But, there is more to a compliment than flattery. An insincere compliment may sweeten the tongue, but it also sours the stomach. A flowery phrase is usually unnecessary. Simple but sincere compliments will do.
Be sensitive to the time and place. A word spoken in right circumstances can have a tremendous impact on the life of a person. Even a little nod of acknowledgement given deftly, at the right moment, can stir a soul. If you are watching the NBA, PBA, or even an ordinary basketball game, you'll see players wink or nod to each other whenever they score after receiving the ball.
Recall your personal examples of struggle. Some of us may always believe that successful people never made any mistakes, but that's not so. Anyone facing dificulty needs to be reminded that challenges and failures haunt us all, on any given time. Nobody's perfect, after all.
Take time. Any unthinking compliments of ecncouragements won't do. These compliments do not have the power to move, even when they are really meant. A real encouragement is much like a well-written letter, prepared and thought over before sealing and sending.
Encouragement is simple. It may be a single word, a compliment, or even a pep talk. Take a look around you. Pick someone out. Then, just give them the best you've got. There is no need for a sermon or a special advice: just fine words of encouragement.
The right words, at the right time, can work wonders. Always remember that.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Manila before the Pacific War boasts of some charming boroughs, one of which is Ermita (the spanish of hermitage). But since time lavishes the opportunities for change and growth, Manila today has departed from its classic Spanish-Filipino ambience.
Bounded in the north by a vast 60-hectare area which we call the Rizal Park, which old name is Luneta or Bagumbayan (new land), in the south by Calle Herran (Pedro Gil today, in case you do not know), in the east by Taft Avenue (after William H. Taft), Ermita's landmarks have heeded the call of progress, modernization and tourism. As years (decades to be exact) passed by, Ermita has changed, and indeed it had a drastic metamorphosis.
Before, Luneta's historic claim was its ground where our national hero Jose Rizal, fell to his death, now Luneta promenaders love it for all the funning, relaxing and loving (love-making also included) it offers. This old field now includes Chinese, Japanese, and Italian gardens, a children's playground, and shady corners for the lovers (hmmmm).
Ermita was known before as a red-light district, which offered rows of night clubs, cocktail lounges, and beer joints that have catered to the wants of locals and foreigners as well as entertainment plus (you know what I mean, don't you?). After these nightspots were closed down by former mayor Alfredo Lim, nightlife in the area has dwindled. This has been picked up again with the help of the emergence of the nearby Malate district and the Roxas Boulevard Baywalk area in the nightlife scene.
Still, the splendid sunset at Manila Bay happily continues to hold Ermita's habitues spellbound to its scenic view. Hotels near it simply add a patch of grandeur to Roxas Boulevard's long stretch of sea (and hope, perhaps). Not to mention the neon lights that illuminate the bay at night.
Other than nightlife, there are a number of shops and boutiques that offer some good buys. The Supreme Court, just near the DOJ and NBI, the most frequented places by the media, making Ermita a noisy place, literally because of strikes and rallies around the corner. Sidewalk vendors add up to that, with the funny facts that they hide their products under cars to avoid detection from police raiders or even worse, under open manholes (!).
Universities and hospitals are also include in the attractions of Ermita, including the Philippine General Hospital, Manila Doctors' Hospital, Adamson University, Emilio Aguinaldo College, University of the Philippines and the Manila Science High School. The students of the schools menitioned have actually turned the nearby Robinson's Place into a bustling shopping center and rendezvous with several other coffee shops and outdoor-type cafes.
Whether the Ermita frequenters are attuned to the streets or the stars, Ermita is a place where one can go to bare his soul (pure or putrid, no matter what). Ermita is quite simply a place that hankers to be left alone.
I will be frequenting Ermita once more, second semester is about to begin.
*ang tawag kaya sa tagalog ng Ermitense (people who frequent Ermita) ay Ermitanyo?
Bounded in the north by a vast 60-hectare area which we call the Rizal Park, which old name is Luneta or Bagumbayan (new land), in the south by Calle Herran (Pedro Gil today, in case you do not know), in the east by Taft Avenue (after William H. Taft), Ermita's landmarks have heeded the call of progress, modernization and tourism. As years (decades to be exact) passed by, Ermita has changed, and indeed it had a drastic metamorphosis.
Before, Luneta's historic claim was its ground where our national hero Jose Rizal, fell to his death, now Luneta promenaders love it for all the funning, relaxing and loving (love-making also included) it offers. This old field now includes Chinese, Japanese, and Italian gardens, a children's playground, and shady corners for the lovers (hmmmm).
Ermita was known before as a red-light district, which offered rows of night clubs, cocktail lounges, and beer joints that have catered to the wants of locals and foreigners as well as entertainment plus (you know what I mean, don't you?). After these nightspots were closed down by former mayor Alfredo Lim, nightlife in the area has dwindled. This has been picked up again with the help of the emergence of the nearby Malate district and the Roxas Boulevard Baywalk area in the nightlife scene.
Still, the splendid sunset at Manila Bay happily continues to hold Ermita's habitues spellbound to its scenic view. Hotels near it simply add a patch of grandeur to Roxas Boulevard's long stretch of sea (and hope, perhaps). Not to mention the neon lights that illuminate the bay at night.
Other than nightlife, there are a number of shops and boutiques that offer some good buys. The Supreme Court, just near the DOJ and NBI, the most frequented places by the media, making Ermita a noisy place, literally because of strikes and rallies around the corner. Sidewalk vendors add up to that, with the funny facts that they hide their products under cars to avoid detection from police raiders or even worse, under open manholes (!).
Universities and hospitals are also include in the attractions of Ermita, including the Philippine General Hospital, Manila Doctors' Hospital, Adamson University, Emilio Aguinaldo College, University of the Philippines and the Manila Science High School. The students of the schools menitioned have actually turned the nearby Robinson's Place into a bustling shopping center and rendezvous with several other coffee shops and outdoor-type cafes.
Whether the Ermita frequenters are attuned to the streets or the stars, Ermita is a place where one can go to bare his soul (pure or putrid, no matter what). Ermita is quite simply a place that hankers to be left alone.
I will be frequenting Ermita once more, second semester is about to begin.
*ang tawag kaya sa tagalog ng Ermitense (people who frequent Ermita) ay Ermitanyo?
Friday, November 03, 2006
At an early age of 16, I have the height of an average 40 year-old man: 5'9". Relatives, friends, even strangers, would always notice my height. Yes, I'm taller than my mom and dad that we look like siblings when we walk along the street together. Sometimes they even mistake me to be a Korean balikbayan. I have the features of a Chinese kasi. (I have a Chinese bloodline, that's why.) But they always tell me that I look like a Korean. (But Koreans are well-known here in the Philippines because of Koreanovelas, yes?)
Sometimes, I want to have a 'normal' height. Yes, most of us would want to have the height like mine. They'd do anything and everything like taking food supplements that promise to give them the 'Height Advantage' (Cherifer and Growee are perfect examples) Height enhancers are now also being endorsed even in home TV shopping shows. I admit, I took Cherifer for about two years and got this height as a result. Perhaps these food supplements are worth the time and effort(money) after all.
Being tall may be advantageous, but there are also consequences that you should understand. I will try to discuss my views of why having the 'height advantage' is not always an advantage. I'll tell you the advantages, and then the disadvantages. After this, maybe you'd be glad to be an "average" person as you are right now.
People smaller than you get envious about your height. They'd always ask you how you were able to reach that height (hereditary, food supplements, etc.) You might even end up being a fashion model or a basketball player because of you height. People look up to you. Literally.
In crowded places like concerts and theater plays, you can still have full view of the show even from afar. You don't have to end up bumping other people to get a good look at whatever you want to look at. No blocks at all.
Again in crowded places, people would not miss a chance of seeing you. Try and ask them how they were able to find you: "Ang tangkad mo kasi eh!"
You don't need to stand on something else like a ladder, to reach objects located in high places. If you still don't get it, take a look at the Growee commercial. You'll understand my point.
You look older, really. This enables the minors (like me, haha) to drink alcoholic beverages and do other things that are not allowed for their age.
Well, of course being tall also has disadvantages. (this is the reason why I wrote this blog entry, by the way) Simply balance of nature.
You don't get to fit anywhere you like. I had experiences of hitting my head on the CEILING of a computer shop and other establishments with low vertical clearances (haha, kotse ka ba?) because I'm tall. Thank God, malls are big enough for me to fit in.
One more thing: Desks don't fit, chairs don't fit, controls designed for "average" people often don't fall where a tall person can reach them. In order to do what the "average" people need to do, you often have to stretch, reach, bump and slouch.
If you are T&T (tall and thin), you'll have a hard time trying to gain weight. I consider myself a T&T, and this is always noticed by my relatives. Unlike when I was 2nd and 3rd year high school, I had a normal BMI. If you are super T&T, you look like a walking bamboo stick.If you're just thin but not tall enough, you look like a walking toothpick.
You'll also have a hard time looking for clothes that fit you. At my age, I should be looking for clothes at the Boys Teens' Section but because of my height, I'm looking for them at the MENS' section now. Looking for shoes is also a problem. I have a size 9 foot. Well, at least imagine if you are tall and you have a size 4 foot: abnormal.
Tall people have a higher tendency to have bad backs. Tall people have difficulty moving around properly because their spines cannot take their body mass anymore. Simply because the taller you are, the more body mass you'll have.
Tall people are more likely to be seriously injured in crashes and other trauma causing events. The reason is that tall people's heads are closer to roofs, knees closer to the dashboard, shoulders closer to the doors. Also, the protective devices like seats, airbags and headrests are designed for average people and may not work optimally for a tall body. Lucky me, I'm not yet injured like that. (But I will soon be.)
Perhaps having this 'height advantage' is not really an advantage after all.
(!)Tall men have a moderately higher risk of having prostate cancer than their shorter peers.
(!)The taller a woman is, the more likely she is to get breast cancer.
(!)People over 6' are 27% more likely to be injured in a car crash than someone shorter.
(!)Abraham Lincoln, based on his towering height, stooped posture and long limbs, is believed to have been afflicted with Marfan's Syndrome, the most dangerous disorder that threatens tall people.
Sometimes, I want to have a 'normal' height. Yes, most of us would want to have the height like mine. They'd do anything and everything like taking food supplements that promise to give them the 'Height Advantage' (Cherifer and Growee are perfect examples) Height enhancers are now also being endorsed even in home TV shopping shows. I admit, I took Cherifer for about two years and got this height as a result. Perhaps these food supplements are worth the time and effort(money) after all.
Being tall may be advantageous, but there are also consequences that you should understand. I will try to discuss my views of why having the 'height advantage' is not always an advantage. I'll tell you the advantages, and then the disadvantages. After this, maybe you'd be glad to be an "average" person as you are right now.
People smaller than you get envious about your height. They'd always ask you how you were able to reach that height (hereditary, food supplements, etc.) You might even end up being a fashion model or a basketball player because of you height. People look up to you. Literally.
In crowded places like concerts and theater plays, you can still have full view of the show even from afar. You don't have to end up bumping other people to get a good look at whatever you want to look at. No blocks at all.
Again in crowded places, people would not miss a chance of seeing you. Try and ask them how they were able to find you: "Ang tangkad mo kasi eh!"
You don't need to stand on something else like a ladder, to reach objects located in high places. If you still don't get it, take a look at the Growee commercial. You'll understand my point.
You look older, really. This enables the minors (like me, haha) to drink alcoholic beverages and do other things that are not allowed for their age.
Well, of course being tall also has disadvantages. (this is the reason why I wrote this blog entry, by the way) Simply balance of nature.
You don't get to fit anywhere you like. I had experiences of hitting my head on the CEILING of a computer shop and other establishments with low vertical clearances (haha, kotse ka ba?) because I'm tall. Thank God, malls are big enough for me to fit in.
One more thing: Desks don't fit, chairs don't fit, controls designed for "average" people often don't fall where a tall person can reach them. In order to do what the "average" people need to do, you often have to stretch, reach, bump and slouch.
If you are T&T (tall and thin), you'll have a hard time trying to gain weight. I consider myself a T&T, and this is always noticed by my relatives. Unlike when I was 2nd and 3rd year high school, I had a normal BMI. If you are super T&T, you look like a walking bamboo stick.If you're just thin but not tall enough, you look like a walking toothpick.
You'll also have a hard time looking for clothes that fit you. At my age, I should be looking for clothes at the Boys Teens' Section but because of my height, I'm looking for them at the MENS' section now. Looking for shoes is also a problem. I have a size 9 foot. Well, at least imagine if you are tall and you have a size 4 foot: abnormal.
Tall people have a higher tendency to have bad backs. Tall people have difficulty moving around properly because their spines cannot take their body mass anymore. Simply because the taller you are, the more body mass you'll have.
Tall people are more likely to be seriously injured in crashes and other trauma causing events. The reason is that tall people's heads are closer to roofs, knees closer to the dashboard, shoulders closer to the doors. Also, the protective devices like seats, airbags and headrests are designed for average people and may not work optimally for a tall body. Lucky me, I'm not yet injured like that. (But I will soon be.)
Perhaps having this 'height advantage' is not really an advantage after all.
(!)Tall men have a moderately higher risk of having prostate cancer than their shorter peers.
(!)The taller a woman is, the more likely she is to get breast cancer.
(!)People over 6' are 27% more likely to be injured in a car crash than someone shorter.
(!)Abraham Lincoln, based on his towering height, stooped posture and long limbs, is believed to have been afflicted with Marfan's Syndrome, the most dangerous disorder that threatens tall people.
Labels: write ups
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Hakone Daimyo Gyoretsu
(Feudal Lord's Procession in Hakone)
(Feudal Lord's Procession in Hakone)
The festival shouts of 'Down! Down! The Lord comes!' echoing in the hot spring town under the autumn sky
Date: November 3rd
Place: Yumoto Hot Spring Town
City: Hakone-machi, Ashigara-Shimo-gun, Kanagawa Prefecture
An annual tourist event held on Culture Day (a national holiday), November 3rd, at Yumoto Onsen, Hakone. A procession of a total of 170 people dressed up as samurai warriors and princesses parades over a distance of some 6 km in the hot spring town.
The procession is reproduced in the style of the Daimyo Gyoretsu (feudal lord's procession)which was also known as sankin kotai during the Edo Period (1603-1867). The suite of retainers, each assigned with his role, and armed with spear, bow and arrow, or gun, march on as they carry their lord in the palanquin to the words, 'Down! Down! The Lord comes!' voiced aloud by those leading the procession.
The sankin kotai was a system established by the Tokugawa Shogunate reigning over Japan back then to prevent its subordinate feudal lords from rising in rebellion. By obliging the daimyo lords to go back and forth between their domains and Edo (present-day Tokyo) in alternate years, the Shogunate Government aimed at weakening their financial power.
At 10 o'clock in the morning, the Hakone Daimyo Gyoretsu departs from Sounji Temple, and while carrying out diverse activities on the way, arrives at Yumoto Fujiya Hotel, the final destination, a little past 2 o'clock in the afternoon. The festival is made all the more merry by the performances of the marching bands accompanying the daimyo procession at the front and at the very end, and the dance performances by the geigi unique to hot spring resorts (geigi are women who entertain guests at sake parties with song and dance). Another of the delights of the Daimyo Gyoretsu in Hakone is that you can enjoy bathing in an onsen hot spring to relieve your fatigue once the festival is over.
*Hakone Yumoto Station is about 15 minutes from Odawara Station on the Hakone Tozan Railway.
*Odawara Station is about 35 minutes from JR Tokyo Station on the Tokaido Shinkansen or 1 hour 30 minutes on the Tokaido Line.
*Hakone Hotel, near Lake Ashi would be the best choice for the stay, its near the event and it offers an open-air hot spring bath, with rates of 5,001-10000 yen, and triple twin bedrooms.
So, who wants to go on a tour with me?
Labels: travel, wanderlust, write ups
