tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34642379040661888472024-03-05T19:18:07.440+08:00A PuRéE of LoVe and SuFfErInGCiriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.comBlogger46125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-90855820756902274682014-10-31T18:39:00.001+08:002014-10-31T18:56:24.776+08:00Lazy, Really Lazy, Friday<div style="text-align: justify;">
So, it was official. Work for today was suspended starting 12 noon. It was a lazy day anyway, to begin with. I had a class 9 am but came in late, 30 minutes late. In the one hour I had left, I was able to discuss, with excitement and enthusiasm, quicksort, counting sort and radix sort, their implementations and time complexities as well. I hoped my enthusiasm rubbed off on some of my students. I mean, who can not get excited about counting sort? An unsorted list getting sorted without doing any comparisons at all (excluding, of course, the comparisons in the conditions that would eventually stop the iteration)! I had to insert radix sort lest I'd be accused of too much excitement over a sorting algorithm that is helpful only when the list is composed of 1 digit numbers!</div>
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See, it was a lazy morning.</div>
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I also had the battery of Maki replaced with a brand new one! This time, I no longer have any excuse to not drive Maki around (believe it or not, after seven months, I haven't overcome my fear of crashing into another vehicle). Sigh.</div>
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And I just slept the whole afternoon! I don't think anyone can go any lazier than that!</div>
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So here I am, writing an entry for my blog, after like an eternity, bored. What to do, what to do?</div>
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Oh, it's Halloween night! Party it is!</div>
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(Bonkers! I forgot. I don't party. I hate partying. Pfffft!)</div>
Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-11990092012998947942014-01-01T01:09:00.001+08:002014-01-01T01:09:30.778+08:00And I Love Myself TooIt has been more than 2 years since I last posted an article here. I've been meaning to write everything that comes to mind in this little corner of the cloud. But I've always managed to come up with reasons not to.<br />
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This is my first post for this year. Happy new year to all of us. I wish that all of us will have peace of mind this 2014. As for me, I wish more of the love and less of the suffering, if not absent.<br />
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I am going to move on this year. It's not going to be easy. I don't know how long it will take but I'll get there. I promise. You see, I have been holding on to a love that has been lost for a long time now. I have been holding on to something you never held on to and to something you'll never. I have let myself believe that you and I can be the envy of the stars. I have allowed myself to believe in a lie, the lie that is you.<br />
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So this year, I am going to cut the anchor that has been holding me down. I am cutting loose the anchor that is you.<br />
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Don't get me wrong. I don't hate you. I have loved every single moment that I have spent with you. I have loved every single memory I have of you. I have loved every single time I have spent thinking of you. I love you.<br />
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<strike>But</strike> And I love myself too. I just have to learn to love myself more.Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-57467619931105949862011-09-20T18:27:00.002+08:002011-09-20T18:40:03.997+08:00Long DayIt has been a really, really long day!<br /><br />And it isn't over yet. I want to just dive in a pool filled with ice cubes and let it take all this away.<br /><br />It isn't over yet. I'm starting to dread these words. Of course, by now you'd know I am no longer referring to my whining about this day taking too long already!<br /><br />It isn't over yet. I don't want it to be over. Whatever it is. Whatever this is, I miss it.<br /><br />Oh well, tomorrow is another day. And just like this day, it will be a long one too. I pray though that by tomorrow's end, this will be over too. I have been locked long enough in this self-made cage.<br /><br />Sigh.Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-53678601021338199942011-06-22T10:06:00.003+08:002011-06-22T14:13:48.237+08:00Happiness<div style="text-align: justify;">It was Monday. A holiday. And I didn't like what I was feeling. I cried. But I had to stop those tears from falling. I don't want to cry anymore. Why would I, I asked myself. I was looking for a book to read so I can take my mind off that feeling. And since most of the books I have at home tell stories of broken hearts and broken dreams, I digressed.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Instead, I started browsing the saved messages in my phone and found this: "The worthwhile and important things in life - wisdom and happiness in particular - are simply not the sorts of things one can chase after and grab. They are instead the sorts of things that come to us where we are, if we let them - if we stop trying too hard and just let things happen as they need to (saved August 15, 2010)." The last words struck me the most. Maybe I am just trying too hard. Maybe I should just let things happen as they need to. But then again, maybe it's never going to happen. I became more distraught after having read that passage. Because frankly, I do not know what to do anymore.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have always told friends that happiness is a choice. I have always believed in this. But recently, those words have lost all their meaning to me. Is it too much to ask that I be happy too? I don't want to be lost, again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A friend of mine sent me an e-mail last week and I only got to read it yesterday. What a perfect timing. I am sharing it with you guys. Here it is.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Effective Immediately, please be aware that there are changes YOU need to make in YOUR life. These changes need to be completed in order that I may fulfill My promises to you to grant you peace, joy and happiness in this life. I apologize for any inconvenience, but after all that I am doing, this seems very little to ask of you. Please, follow these 10 guidelines:</i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>1. QUIT WORRYING:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Life has dealt you a blow and all</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>you do is sit and worry.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Have you forgotten that I am here to</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>take all your burdens</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>and carry them for you? Or do you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>just enjoy fretting over</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>every little thing that comes your</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>way?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>2. PUT IT ON THE LIST:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Something needs done or taken care of.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Put it on the list.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>No, not YOUR list. Put it on MY to-do-</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>list. Let ME be the one</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>to take care of the problem. I can't help</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>you until you turn</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>it over to Me. And although My to-do-list</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>is long, I am after</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>all...God. I can take care of anything you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>put into My hands.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>In fact, if the truth were ever really</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>known, I take care of a</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>lot of things for you that you never even</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>realize.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>3. TRUST ME:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Once you've given your</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>burdens to Me, quit trying</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>to take</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>them back. Trust in Me.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Have the faith that I will</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>take care</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>of all your needs, your</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>problems and your trials.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Problems</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>with the kids? Put them on</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>My list. Problem with</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>finances?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Put it on My list. Problems</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>with your emotional roller</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>coaster?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>For My sake, put it on My</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>list. I want to help you.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>All you have to do is ask.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>4. LEAVE IT ALONE:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Don't wake up one morning and say, "Well, I'm feeling much</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>stronger now, I think I can handle it from here." Why do you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>think you are feeling stronger now? It's simple. You gave Me</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>your burdens and I'm taking care of them. I also renew your</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>strength and cover you in my peace. Don't you know that if I</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>give you these problems back, you will be right back where</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>you started? Leave them with Me and forget about them.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Just let Me do my job.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>5. TALK TO ME:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I want you to forget a lot of things.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Forget what was making</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>you crazy. Forget the worry and the</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>fretting because you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>know I'm in control. But there's one</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>thing I pray you never</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>forget. Please, don't forget to talk to Me</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>- OFTEN! I love YOU!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I want to hear your voice. I want you to</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>include Me in on the</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>things going on in your life. I want t</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>hear you talk about your</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>friends and family. Prayer is simply you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>having a conversation</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>with Me. I want to be your dearest</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>friend.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>6. HAVE FAITH:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I see a lot of things from up here that you can't</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>see from</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>where you are. Have faith in Me that I know</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>what I'm doing.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Trust Me, you wouldn't want the view from My</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>eyes. I will</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>continue to care for you, watch over you, and</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>meet your needs.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You only have to trust Me. Although I have a</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>much bigger task</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>than you, it seems as if you have so much</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>trouble just doing your simple part. How hard</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>can trust be?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>7. SHARE:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You were taught to share when you were only two years old.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>When did you forget? That rule still applies. Share with those</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>who are less fortunate than you. Share your joy with those who</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>haven't heard any in such a long time. Share your tears with</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>those who have forgotten how to cry. Share your faith with</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>those who have none.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>8. BE PATIENT:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I managed to fix it so in just one lifetime you could have so many</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>diverse experiences. You grow from a child to an adult, have</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>children, change jobs many times, learn many trades, travel to</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>so many places, meet thousands of people, and experience so much.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>How can you be so impatient then when it takes Me a little longer</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>than you expect to handle something on My to-do-list? Trust in</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>My timing, for My timing is perfect. Just because I created the</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>entire universe in only six days, everyone thinks I should always</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>rush, rush, rush.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>9. BE KIND:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Be kind to others, for I love them</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>just as much as I love you.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>They may not dress like you, or</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>talk like you, or live the same</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>way you do, but I still love you</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>all. Please try to get along,</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>for My sake. I created each of</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>you different in some way. It</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>would be too boring if you were</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>all identical.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>10. LOVE YOURSELF:</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>As much as I love you, how can you not love yourself?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You were created by me for one reason only</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>-- to be loved, and to love in return. I am a God of Love.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Love Me.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Love your neighbors. But also love yourself. It makes My heart</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>ache when I see you so angry with yourself when things go wrong.</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You are very precious to me. Don't ever forget......</i></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-71159158168206448802011-02-04T14:38:00.002+08:002011-02-04T14:54:37.712+08:00What to do next?Scraps: garbage or food that has been discarded.<br /><br />Yes. Probably. Close. But worse.<br /><br />At least scavengers enjoy garbage.<br /><br />Like a poor man's dog, I was waiting. I wanted to be needed. I needed to be wanted. And so I endured what I was feeling then, when all this has started. I know I deserve something. I felt I deserved it, from him.<br /><br />And right now, I know I've lost, everything. I can no longer stand the sad eyes that look back at me every time I face the mirror. I have ignored them for as long as I could.<br /><br />No. Exactly. Here. Worst.<br /><br />I am not worthy. I am nothing.Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-62894668523680437202011-01-22T10:55:00.004+08:002011-01-22T11:17:01.556+08:00TimeTo make good my words on losing some inches, I bought a pair of running shoes (read: ukay-ukay). I thought it was going to be hell finding the right pair and price. Tag along your best bud with you and you will have a blast (she bought herself 4 pairs and she couldn't complain).<br /><br />Right after, we went to Chinito's in Camins. I wanted to eat some Hungarian sausages! Chinito's serves their Hungarian sausage either with rice or mojos. It also comes with a macaroni salad and some buttered veggies. Mine was with rice (2 cups) and Toni's, mojos of course. And almost always, the macaroni salad is left untouched. We also added an order of Buffalo wings which is a staple when we go eat there. And for dessert? Death by chocolate! You guys should try it. It's served with some caramel sauce. The cake itself is food for the gods! The moist inside portions were warm and the best chocolate I ever had in a cake! Not too sweet, not too bitter (I am literally salivating right now).<br /><br />It was wonderful, my night last night. I got to spend time with my best friend. I never knew I'd miss her that much. Good thing her beau is in Cebu. Peace Arns and some hugs for you...Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-78816043235880715392011-01-21T11:38:00.013+08:002011-01-21T17:13:00.510+08:00I hope this is not that late in the yearIt's a Friday. The last day of our midterm week. This means that I will have loads and loads of paper to check. That's very tiring. Because I will be looking at, well, close to 300 flowcharts and close to 200 functions written in C++! I'm not worried though, as I am used to this. I hate that feeling. Being used to doing something. Sucks up all the excitement and adventure in this jungle called the ACADEME!<br /><br />As it turns out, this is my first post for the year. If you will allow me, I'd love to look back at my 2010. So many things happened in 2010. Let's see...<ul><li>Went to Camiguin (June. I have promised myself to do this once a year, travel alone)</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgjmYrLRjwwSLawInup3ATL7W3TDk_uoxVSowybYB5vKJvghWa_NgxYme2eC-UC0b20P2PH1DxxxW9t4yshElsZo0UZ9HaXmKIAkVZoY1alW_lo736pMbAdyoxdnCAUqDsKWvPADYvIk/s1600/CIMG8160.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgjmYrLRjwwSLawInup3ATL7W3TDk_uoxVSowybYB5vKJvghWa_NgxYme2eC-UC0b20P2PH1DxxxW9t4yshElsZo0UZ9HaXmKIAkVZoY1alW_lo736pMbAdyoxdnCAUqDsKWvPADYvIk/s320/CIMG8160.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564547065437082802" border="0" /></a><ul><li>Visited Cebu six times (twice in February, March, April, June and October)</li><li>Went to see the tarsiers and chocolate hills in Bohol (February)</li></ul><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5mGEwsYjpWqP5dNw2b7ajwfkgEHyj1Jn55dMU5tcCpnOUTN-i2NDL-XXkJogE_KsPTVjW-HK-y5AuBtnHSTGuIccYDyumieSXiawQ5lkgbXZJOjpwRTfCT9xt32wLxA6ZBNY5YjGfP0/s1600/CIMG7136.JPG"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5mGEwsYjpWqP5dNw2b7ajwfkgEHyj1Jn55dMU5tcCpnOUTN-i2NDL-XXkJogE_KsPTVjW-HK-y5AuBtnHSTGuIccYDyumieSXiawQ5lkgbXZJOjpwRTfCT9xt32wLxA6ZBNY5YjGfP0/s320/CIMG7136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564553310983390098" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><ul><li>Boarded the space shuttle at EK with my old friends (October)</li><li>Tagaytay escapade still with old friends (October)</li><li>Walked most parts of La Mesa Park while a typhoon was wrecking havoc over the Metro (October)</li><li>Had an amazing breakfast at the Waterfront Hotel Davao (September)<br /></li><li>Went to Boracay (October), for the first time!</li><li><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKUru-XBDC46tZ4hWz0cQ4NjMyEO7ZfpNu54YJcTH03_6qehgcRPDCyeGUW1o0REmiqdNBSPtx1oStdyJwkIg1Ry9ygmmhZvv4KHFgFsZurjut4i35LqjlIE176GjKNG2a-wOTNr6wZA/s1600/jump.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgKUru-XBDC46tZ4hWz0cQ4NjMyEO7ZfpNu54YJcTH03_6qehgcRPDCyeGUW1o0REmiqdNBSPtx1oStdyJwkIg1Ry9ygmmhZvv4KHFgFsZurjut4i35LqjlIE176GjKNG2a-wOTNr6wZA/s320/jump.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564563472262902610" border="0" /></a></li></ul><ul><li>Went Island hopping in Caramoan (November. PRECIOUS!)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LPSlEK4Ros8E4pU_sog0Ux1R0veTvxVHk8yu40sW9j80AKpx-bZ3_6CrGaw5Yfdsx_EItnk3jhWS6z0u67iFwHtdxOx8uiJGjPkmKEexQ8G8HnUfKaa3JvP_W9dyDWqKt-v4OfqZYsE/s1600/DSCN0932.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LPSlEK4Ros8E4pU_sog0Ux1R0veTvxVHk8yu40sW9j80AKpx-bZ3_6CrGaw5Yfdsx_EItnk3jhWS6z0u67iFwHtdxOx8uiJGjPkmKEexQ8G8HnUfKaa3JvP_W9dyDWqKt-v4OfqZYsE/s320/DSCN0932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564559036039385282" border="0" /></a></li><li>Visited two orphanages (one in Cebu last October, one in Zamboanga, December)</li><li>Visited the Pediatric Ward of the Zamboanga City Medical Center</li><li>Donated blood (talk about civic duty)</li></ul>Wow! I am amazed. Most of those are charity trips, and I am all too happy about that!<br /><br />2010 was a year filled with travel. What is wonderful about this is I got to see old friends. Mae Supremo in Bohol, my college buddies in Cebu (Joy, Ayen, Lola Binks, Yowee, Yvette, Eric), Mama Dan Marie (salamat sa pizza) and Aena (salamat sa pagdala sakin sa meetup ng mga taga El-Bi) in Davao, Sir Jac Hermocilla and Mam Rizza in Boracay (of all places).<br /><br />I was able to reconnect with them. I was reminded that friendship is a gift no matter how you look at it. That joy you feel when you see them after a really long time is just incredible. I am definitely going to Butuan this year to go and see Ate TJ and Ate Bing.<br /><br />I had the most fabulous and wondrous time with Ate Gaye, Jutands, Lucman and Ate Iyang when we terrorized Ann Lucman's mansion! I really had a great time in EK, Laguna, Tagaytay, Hard Rock Cafe, La Mesa Park. And it was extra special because I was with all too familiar faces. I was with my friends. So don't mess with them or you will have to get friendly with people from hell! I'd gladly kill for them, figuratively or otherwise.<br /><br />Yes, the Caramoan Islands are a sight to see. They become more enchanting though, if you are with people you care about. And I was more than glad that my Buday Jessica was there with me literally swimming the Islands of Caramoan. I miss my buday! You should have seen our faces when we went to the first island. We looked like some kids who accidentally saw Santa Claus putting wrapped gifts in stockings!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54h2NsIKLo1NiWTwVNjdsAslLegh_n3sp9hpKMvqEB7K9RFSyRkkVXtx31PzidWYxyxT1W1vdMBC9XWckVUbqZ-kDE_pIoOBQ2PNzS0wD_j9ANuerT2SBjxdR37leV3Gl_Kpv3bc-u7k/s1600/DSCN0910.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54h2NsIKLo1NiWTwVNjdsAslLegh_n3sp9hpKMvqEB7K9RFSyRkkVXtx31PzidWYxyxT1W1vdMBC9XWckVUbqZ-kDE_pIoOBQ2PNzS0wD_j9ANuerT2SBjxdR37leV3Gl_Kpv3bc-u7k/s320/DSCN0910.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564561110074721442" border="0" /></a><br />April was unbelievable! Kawasan Falls, Moal-Boal, Tops, AA's, Navi (yikes), Tika's wedding, Ate Iyang's wedding. It was the first time I traveled with my best friend Tonirose! It would be one of the first moments that will flash before my eyes the day I will die (Cleenex, please). If I could kill for my friends, imagine the things I will be capable of doing if you mess with Tonya!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRrsVQPlNjtH7PJGHdHn9JCqfwI_CJnrlq3-70HlgDU-_Kt1EFEnExdBpV2-r6DdvLgm0t3p38cu2tNiGZz2usAdZHCXzWzoTEwVvrRqGp-8LHgEGd-H_WcI9c6M7cGFVP0FpNgehqNk/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWRrsVQPlNjtH7PJGHdHn9JCqfwI_CJnrlq3-70HlgDU-_Kt1EFEnExdBpV2-r6DdvLgm0t3p38cu2tNiGZz2usAdZHCXzWzoTEwVvrRqGp-8LHgEGd-H_WcI9c6M7cGFVP0FpNgehqNk/s320/5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564562409189176386" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And giving back. Thanking the almighty for the great year that it has been. And you know what's amazing about this, yes, I was with very dear friends (Ate Gaye, Jutands, Kuya Archie in Simala, Iggies 97 in Talon-Talon, Tonirose and John in the Pediatrics ward).<br /><br />It wasn't all fun in 2010. I got my heart broken. You should have seen me. I was more than miserable. I was depressed and all that, yes. But I also became so mean to some people around me. I will never do that again for the sake of the people around and for my sake as well. I never thought I could do such things. I also got pawned when I childishly posted a frustration on my FB wall. It made me realize that I am human and that I make mistakes. I learned that I can humble myself and take full responsibility of what I do. I also learned that some cannot do this or at least is having some trouble with this.<br /><br />And boy,was I a bitch! Rawr! I used to enjoy my workplace. That was until some people decided to make mediocrity their mantra! I leave this part with that, an exclamation point!<br /><br />Then I made new friends just as 2010 was bidding goodbye. John Teodoro, Randy Jay Solis, Mark Cabil, Darwin De Lima and Randolph Tropezado, let's make December 2011 more fab than December 2010 (how are are we gonna top that?)!<br /><br />So how do I see 2011? It's definitely going to be a year of reflection. Yes. It's definitely going to see a more responsible me. More mature. Change. Yes, that too. I am going to lose some inches here and there. Let's see if that's gonna get me out of this single "cursedness"!<br /><br />Oh, I will now go back to checking midterm exams.Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-23388664975731575612010-11-25T15:29:00.002+08:002010-11-25T15:37:54.851+08:00Hello, Are You There?Where are you? I miss your smile.<br />I miss the way the full moon lights up your face.<br />I miss the way the sun kisses your skin.<br />I miss the way you rock the world with your laughter.<br /><br />You used to be happy, REALly happy.<br />You used to dance under the rain and just let loose.<br />You used to swim and just let the waves carry you.<br />You used to love, love yourself dearly.<br /><br />What happened?<br />Where are you?<br />What are you doing to yourself?<br />Why did you let this be?<br /><br />Please come back.<br />Come back to me and make me free again.<br />Come back.<br />Come back to me and tell me that the world is not a scary place.<br />Tell me that it was never scary.<br /><br />The raindrops are heavy on your shoulders.<br />The grains of sand are painful on your face.<br />The sunlight is burning your skin.<br /><br />Hush now. Hush.Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-61779345019835905302010-11-13T18:00:00.002+08:002010-11-13T18:01:08.106+08:00I am Back!!I am definitely back! And I feel good about it. And I am feeling $o lucky today! Yeah baby!!Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-52104469344682937042009-09-26T11:37:00.004+08:002009-09-26T18:18:04.692+08:00I Quit You<div style="text-align: justify;">You have been making my day, all my days, for the last year. And I liked it that way. But I have to let go of this. It is not right. This is not right. I guess this is the only cure I know. It's true that bad days become the best when you are around. It is true that you make me smile before I finally close my eyes for a slumber late at night. But you see, you don't love me. You can't love me. It's not your fault. And it never was. This is the only cure for what I feel right now, when I wake up and open my eyes, squinting at the light coming from the rays of early morn sun. Too, squinting at the TRuTH.<br /><br />And this is what makes this all the more painful, damn, you are my right kind of wrong.</div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-77935574375664808262009-06-04T11:51:00.013+08:002010-11-13T17:55:58.247+08:00Four Days<div style="text-align: justify;">I gave Manong tricycle driver 40 pesos for my fare. That was a very quiet, and chaotic ride at the same time. He dropped me at Valderoza Street near the CAP building.<br /><br />I walked a few meters towards where we were to meet. One leg was hesitant, the other more hesitant. One part of me was telling, more like ordering me, to just go back home. This other part, this annoying other part, was telling to see this one through. But I already decided to see this one through the moment I alighted from the tricycle. All there was left to do was to force those legs to go take those steps.<br /><br />I suddenly felt the world was turning around me. I felt pressure going up through my head and I started seeing black spots. I took a pause, took a deep breath. My legs were shaking.<br /><br />Surprisingly, I found myself peering, quite nervously, through the glass doors of the restaurant. I was relieved. I saw no familiar faces.<br /><br />There was a couple, to my right, browsing the menu and a rather stocky crew waiting for their orders. The woman was probably in her early 30s, the guy, I was not so sure of. His back was facing me. She was wearing a white collared top, sleeveless with raffles outlined around the pearl button line from her neck to her chest.<br /><br />"I'm here. Turn to your left," read the message from him.<br /><br />It was loudest pound I've ever felt in my entire life. Pictures of him whispering in my ear, his left hand holding mine, leading it gently to the headboard kept flashing. Before I could hear what he was trying to say, I was back to my self, turned left and walked to him.<br /><br />There was a glass of iced tea. A teapot and the smell of Twining's four red fruits. He stood up, walked to the chair opposite his and pulled it out for me. There was something in his smile. It was heavy, almost sad. "Hi, he--llo," he stuttered. I sat and he went back to his seat.<br /><br />Before he could say anything, "Steve, this has got to stop. Your wedding is in four days. I can't have this right now, not anymore."<br /><br />"Exactly, my wedding is in four days and I can't stop thinking that I am going to make this big mistake."<br /><br />"You've dreamed for that day to come. She loves you and you adore her. And this is going to be the envy of the stars, remember?"<br /><br />"After what happened last night, I knew seeing this through is going to be the biggest mistake that I'll ever do, and I can't make that mistake. I won't. I won't make us miserable for the ..."<br /><br />"What happened last night, that was the mistake Steve. What happened ..." I froze, I just froze, literally.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I will never hurt you." He whispered. His left hand was still holding mine. Both rested on the headboard.</span><br /><br />I was myself again.<br /><br />He was looking intently at me, as if he saw what just flashed before me. It was as though he heard himself whisper those words.<br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-34780901039785573032009-05-28T10:35:00.003+08:002009-05-28T10:39:56.033+08:00Reading<div style="text-align: center;">Reading is<br /><s>fundametal</s><br /><s>fundamettal</s><br /><s>fundemutual</s><br />good.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I saw this on a shirt when I was in Cebu back in 2003. I fell in love with the shirt so I bought it. It was the first time in 4 years I wore that shirt yesterday. It was nostalgic.<br /></div></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-40257290091455516372009-05-16T17:06:00.005+08:002010-11-13T17:56:55.596+08:00Bye Steven<div style="text-align: justify;">"Bye John," he said.<br />"Bye Steven," was all I could reply.<br /><br />To him, it did not mean anything. That is what he always says when he leaves.<br />To me though, it was as if it was the end of the world. It was as if I'd never see him again. It was as if I'd never be able to talk with him. It was as if I never can reach out to him, again.<br /><br />We were at a local bakeshop (that one that makes the best chocolate cakes in the city, the one near the boondocks). We were having cake and tea. And it was time for him to go, and time for me to go back to work.<br /><br />It felt like it was our last tea together. I know it was our last tea together. And when he said "Bye," I knew very well that it was time to go too.<br /><br />Tonight, you see, he is going to ask Margaux's parents for her hands (we call it pamamanhikan). They've been together for 3 years now, Margaux and Steven. And it was time, it was their time.<br /><br />It was so innocent, his goodbye. Before that, he asked me to be his best man. And I didn't say no, I can't say no. I said I would be happy to. I said their story is going to be the envy of the stars. Then there was silence, awkward silence. He looked at me and I at him. He stood up, gave me a pat, looked at me one last time, smiled and said "Bye John."<br /><br />The moment he said that, I knew it was no longer one of those I-felt-as-ifs. I really felt it. Tasted it. And it tasted like fresh blood and smelt of rust and ash.<br /><br />************************<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How could I see him, look at him? How could I talk to him, reach out to him? How could I care for him and love him when he is already half of this wonderful thing I had dreamed of us to be. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">How could I, when I know the other half isn't me and will never be.</span><br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-85900248634630330662009-05-06T13:52:00.002+08:002009-05-06T14:01:37.910+08:00I know what will happen next<div style="text-align: justify;">I was having this conversation with a friend thru text messages. We were talking about someone. Then she cautioned me to slow down. In my reply, I simply said that I know myself too well. No need to worry about anything. I said, I exactly know what will happen next.<br /><br />I will fall. And i will realize that it can't happen. We can't happen. I'll cry. Then cry some more. All these with him not knowing anything.<br /><br />At least I now know, too well actually, what my tear ducts are for. And damn! They never run out of tears.<br /><br />These days, tears are the only thing that make me believe that I am still human.<br /><br />I am hoping that one day, one random smile will make me believe that I am a human being, worthy.<br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-73095708355478807952009-04-25T08:54:00.004+08:002009-04-25T10:17:09.659+08:00Things Better Left Unsaid (Not a Part 2)<div style="text-align: justify;">I talk a lot. I have a hard time zipping my mouth. Sometimes I become too frank that at times I become rude. And I tend to be honest. Especially with the people I care about, a lot.<br /><br />So there, I said a few things I thought I should have. Unfortunate.<br /><br />They say that some things are better left unsaid. I didn't believe in that.<br />Until we stopped. Until he stopped.<br /><br />I knew then, when I wrote <a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://ryanciriaco.blogspot.com/2009/01/things-better-left-unsaid-part-1.html">this</a>, that there never will be a part 2. As much as I want it to have a sun-kissed, walk-hand-in-hand-by-the-sea-as-the-sun-sets part 2, it will never happen.<br /><br />At least, I now know how it feels to be asked to join someone's table.<br /><br />And I know it means nothing.<br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-13983172273486585132009-01-12T09:24:00.003+08:002009-01-12T09:40:00.885+08:00Things Better Left Unsaid - Part 1<div style="text-align: justify;">I want to cry. I need to cry. But it seems like my tear ducts have dried up.<br />They say that some things are better left unsaid. I didn't believe in that.<br />Until we stopped. Until he stopped.<br /><br />First Sunday of April 2008. I woke up at around 2 pm. I felt like the world was resting on my head. I couldn't stand up because the world around me was spinning. So I sat on my bed. I was trying to recollect my thoughts and trying to remember how I got home. Nothing. The only thing I could remember was I was with Dave and Caren having a discussion, err, argument about Conrado de Quiros the night before at some bar.<br /><br />Two days after, I wanted to go out but everyone was busy. I decided to go out all by myself and went to this bar where I was last time. I was getting in the bar, then I thought the car parked near the bar's entrance was familiar. But nothing registered. The place was full. There was one table near the counter though, a table for three that seemed empty. I was about to sit myself when this guy pulled one of the chairs and sat himself too. He was smiling at me. As if struck by lightning, everything came back. That's why the car was familiar. That's why I woke up at 2 pm. It was Steve. He was wearing a white shirt. The print said "Don't even think about it." It was black, the print.<br /><br />He's working at the City Hall, at the City Treasurer's office. He is 29 years old and about 5 feet 6 inches tall. His hair, well, he has a shaved head. He has quite a nose. It looks very much like Michael Douglas'. He is a tad darker than I am. His eyes, black. And when they look at me, they're like the most sincere pair of eyes that ever locked into mine. His voice, well, like a rock star's.<br /><br />"Damn! I couldn't believe it. Look who's here?" "I couldn't believe myself either," I replied.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The first Saturday of April 2008. I was with Dave and Caren. We've had just two rounds of beer. We were feasting on these beef strips cooked in coconut milk, butter and shrimp paste. And some nuts. We were arguing about Conrado de Quiros. I was telling them that I started hating the columnist since he started hating PGMA. But I still read him though. Dave was saying that someone had to stand up and simply say bluntly what evil PGMA is. I was saying, more like shouting already, that she isn't all that bad, when this guy from across our table grinned and he was looking at me. I didn't so much mind about it. But he kept doing it, every time I was getting too emotional defending PGMA.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was calm at that time. I approached him. He was all by himself. He was already there when Dave, Caren and I arrived at the bar. "So, you seem to be enjoying our conversation back there." "Not really," he said. "I mean, you are drinking your beer. Give those guys a break. Just enjoy your beer," he continued. He politely asked me to join him in his table. For a moment there, I hesitated. But heck, how many times do I get invited to join a guy's table! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">He was having pizza with his beer. There were six slices left on the platter. He was almost done with his second slice. It was carelessly placed on a saucer, black saucer, (the second slice). He asked Rafa, one of the waiters, for another saucer and a fork. I excused myself for a while. "I'll just go tell my friends I ran into someone, ok?" "Ok," he replied and then sheepishly smiled.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was back at his table in a jiffy. I sat in front of him. The table had three chairs. "So, you often do this? I mean go out alone?" "Some nights, well most nights actually," he answered without even looking at me. His thoughts seemed to have been wandering someplace else. He called out to Rafa again and asked for a bucket of 5+1. This guy wants to be drunk tonight, I mumbled to myself.</span><br /><br />We made this a regular thing. Usually on Sundays and Thursdays. Of course there are weeks that we miss out. I was busy. He had to go out of town. I had to be with my friends. He had to be with his mom. I fought a bout with colds. He had a fight with his Dad. I had to finish some slides. He had to chaperon his kid sis.<br /><br />(To be continued...)<br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-23841966715964547292009-01-06T15:02:00.003+08:002009-01-07T13:51:06.895+08:00Underneath It All<div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:100%;" >Something I wrote three years ago...</span>
<br />
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{page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">I feel safe around him.<span style=""> </span>I feel appreciated.<span style=""> </span>And, I want to play with the idea that I am loved every time I am with him.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">But I really don’t know if he does love me.<span style=""> </span>I just have this crazy feeling, crazy thought, crazy dream that like me, he too has been found by love.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /><span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">Like a bird who has broken its wings, like a nightingale who has lost its voice, like a cloud pouring hard its all, like them, I have broken my wings, I have lost my voice, I have cried my all.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">It is funny how you suddenly realize that you have missed so much of the world because you have made him your all, your world and still would want to miss more of the world just to spend one more day with him, even for just one more.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">And I thank him for that.<span style=""> </span>Because I could not imagine moments passing by, life coursing through, without him, without having known him, without having to know that there is one person in this world, this strange world, who could make me believe when there is nothing more to believe in.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have realized that even the daisy is also pretty, I wouldn’t have realized that the sun is just as romantic as the moon, that dreams come true and that love is love.<span style=""> </span>I wouldn’t have realized that even I can be loved.<span style=""> </span>I know it’s such a strong word, love, but it is what it is, love is love.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">Albeit this same love has made me realize that I can’t have everything, most especially him, it is this same love that has taught me to believe in everything and in forever.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;">
<br /><span style=""> </span></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> </div><p style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;font-family:trebuchet ms;" class="MsoPlainText" ><span style="font-size:100%;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><div style="text-align: justify; font-family: verdana;"> <span style=";font-size:100%;" >And if this love has finally left him but still lingers on in me, I will love, I will believe.<span style=""> </span>And I will always remember that the daisy is also pretty, that the sun is just as romantic as the moon, that dreams come true and that love is love.</span></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-51230600358628357262008-10-22T21:26:00.003+08:002008-10-22T23:06:59.356+08:00Random Non-sense3rd bottle in 3rd cup. The place, serene and quiet, suddenly turned into a market place. To my right, a group of teeners, high school teeners for sure, are a group of first timers. I could listen to their stories. One is talking about his basketball game, being benched for like the nth time. Another talks about his encounter with some girl he saw in Giordano. In front of me are a group of men, barely men I suppose. They were enjoying their PSP game a while back. But, like me, on their 3rd bottle as well, they have entered into a conversation they are so into. I could not make out of what they are talking about, except for the occasional laughs. They are intently engaged in watching at their Sony Vaio laptop. One of the men, err boys, is wearing a peach shirt. I just had to mention it. Nothing special. Another, the guy to his right, is wearing a bull cap. Oh, I was to segue from the part when I typed the word laughs.<br />Laughter. Someone plurked something about what makes you laugh. Looking at my self in the mirror makes me laugh, I replied. I just posted that because I did not know what else to post.<br />This whole post is not going to make any sense. So don't start rationalizing what you are reading right now.<br />I have been a software engineer once in my life. I have worked with a lot of people. Some weird, some weirder still. But it didn't matter. It didn't matter if one was weird. Because there, so long as you were doing your job, which was to meet deadlines and code elegantly, you were fine. It didn't matter if at lunchbreak you were listening to Michael Jackson then on to April Boy Regino the next. It didn't matter if you liked Erap but hated FPJ.<br />Now, well, I just have to smile.<br />I would like to think that it wouldn't matter if I met someone who doesn't like me. I met many of them by the way. I would like to think that I am doing them a favor, at least they have someone to laugh about, to say bad words about.<br />And that is not about to change, my belief that it shouldn't matter.<br />I have realized that we can't please everyone. Some will disappoint us, others will disappoint us some more.<br />Like I said, this is a random non-sense... :)Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-79503083309801417872008-09-16T10:43:00.002+08:002008-09-16T10:57:39.696+08:00WednesdaysI have seen red rose buds bloom into immense beauty<div>I have seen them wither too, petal after petal.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have watched the sun heed to the dark</div><div>I have watched the dark heed to the bright of light.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have seen the moon, full and proud, bow</div><div>I have seen the moon, invisible and new, shine</div><div><br /></div><div>I have watched Wednesdays dawn into Thursdays</div><div>I have seen all these, but not you.</div><div><br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-71829144350939826902008-08-31T20:03:00.003+08:002008-08-31T20:09:47.298+08:00LowI have done stupid things in my life. But what I did last night tops all of them. It was disgusting. It was bordering on psychosis. I was so damn stupid. Bien tanga! gago!Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-63350867898872965342008-08-30T10:32:00.002+08:002008-08-30T11:04:16.623+08:00On Wet, Cold Saturday Mornings and Cory Aquino<div style="text-align: justify;">I had a hard time getting out of my bed this morning. It's been raining for hours already. It's cold, not the devilish kind, but the kind that makes you want to not get out of bed and just lie down there and dream. I wanted to fall asleep. And dream of you. I haven't seen for almost two months now. I can't say if you are avoiding me. You said you're just busy. I can take that lie. I seem to have been feeding on those lately, your lies. Lie to me, one more time. Lie to me, and tell me you miss me too.<br /><br />The dream never came and it's getting late, one peek outside the window, tells me that the truth is cold, and that when the rain falls gently, it's going to be a while before the chilling pain goes away.<br /><br />I got out bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face and logged on to <a href="http://www.inquirer.net">Inquirer.net</a>. I got intrigued by this news which read "<a href="http://newsinfo.inquirer.net/inquirerheadlines/nation/view/20080830-157675/Cory-Aquino-Use-people-power-to-fight-poverty">Cory Aquino: Use People Power to fight poverty.</a>" Then I was fuming. For a while there I wanted all her yellow clothes to change to the rust colored kind. You see, I never liked her.<br /><br />Yes, why not use people power? Use the power of the people to fight poverty. When the two people power revolutions were staged, there was a ridiculously great amount of money involved. Businessmen, mostly, did not bother to pour in money just to have a corrupt and evil administration toppled, in a bloodless revolution.<br /><br />Why do we find it hard to the same in fighting poverty when it is very easy for us to go to the streets and point fingers at the wrongs of an administration who might just have been trying its best to solve the gargantuan problems of this seemingly small country? I don't want to go into telling you that it's because of personal interest. That helping out in toppling down an administration is an investment.<br /><br />I pity my fellow Filipinos who, in all fervor and patriotism, just want a peaceful and corrupt-less nation (myself included). I feel used. I feel betrayed.<br /><br />The rain has not stopped yet. It is still cold. I am going to take a bath now. And it will be cold.<br /><br />The rain gently falls. Slowly. Telling me it's going to be a while before the chilling pain goes away.<br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-22236962869727469732008-08-25T22:08:00.003+08:002008-08-25T22:49:48.978+08:00On Ben Chan, "I am Ninoy" and de Quiros<div style="text-align: justify;">Ben Chan was the player in this afternoon's episode of Deal or No Deal. When down to the last two cases and with PhP150,279 offer from the banker, he opted to go for his case, briefcase number 5. This number has always brought him luck said Kris. With this, he was standing to lose the offer and bring home 10 pesos or lose the offer and donate 300,000 to a charity. He promised to give the charity the 300,000 if his case turns out to be 10 pesos. The number 5 must have been very lucky for him as it contained the 300,000 (and you hear Kris shriek!). As if he cared, he is freakin' Ben Chan.<br /><br />Kris asked for this black shirt, one of the "I am Ninoy" shirts. She thanked Ben for makin' them and making her mother, Cory Aquino, very happy. The shirt is available in all Bench outlets and in all sizes.<br /><br />Last week, the country remembered the heroism of Ninoy, his assassination's 25th Anniversary. To this day, those sentenced to be imprisoned for life, the supposed culprits in the assassination, deny ever having been involved in that monstrosity.<br /><br />On December 30, 2003, President Gloria Macapagal Arroyo pledged not to run in the 2004 presidential elections. There must have been sincerity in that, she made it on Rizal Day. Almost everyone praised her. The many projects that she started to pay attention to were no longer considered as campaigning for the next elections.<br /><br />Suddenly, she filed her candidacy. That's when de Quiros lost faith in her. It's as if, the only glorious thing about her was her name. It no longer mattered that she was daughter of a former President of the Republic. She was devil incarnate to de Quiros.<br /><br />That's also when I stopped reading de Quiros. Almost all his articles were about how evil PGMA has become. You see, I've always loved de Quiros. He used to be the only reason why I read the Inquirer.<br /><br />Then he wrote <a href="http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20080825-156630/Hindi-ka-nag-iisa">this.</a><br /><br />Hindi ka nag-iisa. What has made this country a little less bereaved by August 21 is that it dwells too much on a particular martyrdom to the exclusion of all else, turning it as well into a conceit, wrote de Quiros. Very well said. I think it is important to remember that it wasn't only Ninoy who was assassinated. It wasn't only Ninoy who shed blood. It wasn't only Cory who lost a husband. It is important to remember that it was the nation's sacrifice. They were in the hundereds, thousands even. They were nameless and faceless, and they remain to be in the eyes of the Filipinos to this very day.<br /><p>De Quiros concluded his article with this: "I wonder when we’ll ever make August 21 a little more meaningful by adding that dimension to it. True enough, Ninoy, Sin and Cory were, and are, heroes. But hindi sila nag-iisa. There were, there are, more.</p> <p>A lot, lot more."</p><p>And that's probably the reason why we have the National Heroes' Day. That's today, by the way.</p><br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-77590525205878291582008-07-30T10:10:00.003+08:002008-07-30T10:34:08.216+08:00The Separation of Church and State<div style="text-align: justify;">I've been wanting to write about this ever since the Catholic hierarchy has been threatening Catholic lawmakers of not giving them communion if they will support the Reproductive Health Bill. I never got to write what I wanted to say though. Then I read a news in the Inquirer where the Catholic Hierarchy reminded its flock of its non-endorsement of condoms even to married couples with HIV (if your husband has HIV, the Catholic hierarchy reminds the uninfected wife to never resort to wearing a condom during intercourse). This didn't just bother me, it angered me. But I kept my cool. This morning, while reading the paper, some bishop was in the news again, threatening members of his church of excommunication if and when they will support the Reproductive Health Bill! I still can't say what I want to say.<br /><br />I remembered MLQ III's article in the Inquirer. I guess he said it perfectly. The following are the article's last two paragraphs:<br /><p>"At the very least the hierarchy not only has the right, but the duty, to mobilize. It is up to the faithful whether they will follow their shepherds’ lead. Personally, I do not think it either desirable or productive to question Catholics on questions of faith or morals: Any serious Catholic is under the same obligation as any decent Filipino to defend his principles, to the death, if need be. To demand of Catholics that they restrict the application of their faith and morals to the confines of their homes and churches is essentially to ask them to commit apostasy.</p> <p>But it is fair and just to remind the hierarchy and the rest of the Catholic citizenry that our Republic does not exist for Catholics alone, and this means that their faith and morals cannot be made the exclusive basis for state policy."</p><p>You can read the entire article <a href="http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20080724-150296/Faith-and-morals">here. </a><br /></p><br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-46515599629951545982008-06-05T21:03:00.005+08:002008-06-05T22:44:53.544+08:00Comme des Garcons<div style="text-align: justify;">That's French for "like boys." No! Read it again. It's "like boys" and not "I like boys." Although that is true as well, very much in fact.<br />Comme des Garcons by Junya Watanabe. That's what's written on the pair of shoes I recently bought. It's a pair of browns. Comme des Garcons is a famous brand in Japan with over 200 vendors around the world. It also has a store in Paris. I know, I can't afford these kinds of shoes. They are out of my league, so to speak. But I just bought a pair bitches! Be jealous, be very jealous!<br />On second thought, don't be. I bought them for only PhP120.00. It's that cheap. I got it from <span style="font-style: italic;">ukay ukay</span>. That one near the United Pharmacy. Every night, that small alley there turns into an <span style="font-style: italic;">ukay ukay</span> of shoes, shoes of every kind. Littered, quite disorderly, on the pavement are all kinds of shoes. Brand new class A pairs of all brands. But what I consider real finds are those pairs formerly owned by God knows who! If you just patiently look, more like hunt, you will find a pair that will suit you best. Like the Comme pair I found.<br /><br />Seated like a five year old near a bush, she was wearing a hat. It was more like a rag wrapped around her head. I couldn't make the color of the cloth, it was past 8 pm. She was seated there on the side walk, near the bush. The bush was fenced by four lines of barb wire. Behind her was a brown box. It was empty. Tin cans of four different sizes were neatly arranged right in front of her. They were rusty. Two of the cans had water in them. One was almost empty, the other almost half empty. There was one big can with its lid cover folded away from it. It contained what seemed like leftover rice. There wasn't any mat nor rag nor even flat cartons that may have served as her floor. Between her and the soil is that rough, cold and heartless pavement. There were plastic bags around her. One bag was black. The rest were either white or red. Tucked in one of those plastic bags was a cat. Almost a foot long, curled in a spoon position. Unmindful of the people passing by the street. Another was asleep near it. Both were a collage of orange and brown feline hair. Carefully watching people pass by the street was a third cat. It was comfortably settled on its belly on the old lady's skirt. Together, the cats, the plastic bags, the tin cans and the old lady, they formed a circle. The brown box at the back of the old lady. It was a picture of how life must be lived. Simple, uncomplicated and full of care. The lady's eyes never wandered away from the cats. She must have provided for these cats for a long time now. They were a picture of a happy family. Like the first cat, the old lady was as well unmindful of the things that was happening around her. She did not even notice I was carefully studying them from about a meter away. Why should they bother us anyway? Why should she even mind about us? When they were perfect, just like that. It didn't even cross my mind if they had dinner already. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to ask how she was and how long has she been taking care of the cats. I wanted to ask her if she had a home, if she had a family.<br />All she had to do to appease me was to be herself, to look after her cats under a dark, cloudy, starless sky.<br />I feel heavy, writing this one. I have to end this now. A tear just fell from my left eye. I can still see her face, full of love and full of passion. It's raining hard outside.<br /><br /></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3464237904066188847.post-1578932241494140052008-05-27T21:16:00.002+08:002008-05-27T22:04:09.809+08:00Salted Peanuts<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She couldn't have been any younger than 50. She had this black lace, littered with golden glitters that kept her hair up in a ponytail. Her forehead was oily, and her cheeks as well. She seemed tired. Her eyes seemingly wary, mostly tired and a bit reddish. Between seconds, she reaches for a bag of Sugo salted peanuts. She was carefully munching the nuts, ever cautious to part her lips in every munch. I could see that she kept munching the nuts with her left set of molars. She probably have lost her right set of molars, seeing that she's in her fifty's. She was sitting in a stooped position, almost unintentionally. She just wiped her right hand on her pants, the right pair to be exact, right on her thigh. She was wearing a pair of black corduroy pants. The side of each pair open, about 2 inches in width, knitted in designs of "x". It was annoying, her wiping in her pants every 4 or so nuts. With her right ring finger, she scratched the bridge of her nose. Her nails must have not been manicured for a year. She then reached for the bag of nuts again. She wasn't wearing any ring, I noticed. Either she's allergic to rings or she's a spinster, but hopefully not the mean type. She seems to be a nice lady. She's wearing a pair of golden earrings.<br />A screaming siren shook me and made me stop staring at her. It came from a speeding PNP car that had "Bomb Squad" written on its side. I figured, probably there was a bomb threat in Guiwan. That's where the car was heading in a flash. Then I noticed that we were following an old Volkswagen beetle. It's plate read "LAW 241." I'll be honest, I am not sure with the digits that came after the letters. His plate read LAW. That was what caught my attention. It made me think, what's the use of having laws when bomb scares and bomb explosions seem to be routines in our place?<br />What are laws if they cannot deter would-be criminals and terrorists? What are laws when law enforcers become the criminals and the terrorists?<br />Cicero once said and lectured that "The good of the people is the chief law." What does it mean when one says people that are good, anyway? Before I become the philosophical fish that I sometimes am, I just have to look at the hungry Filipinos who are running out of patience, running out of time, running out of options.<br />She reached for her bag of nuts, again, not minding the bomb squad that just crossed our way. I wonder if she even heard the siren. She kept munching, wiping her right hand on her right thigh, reaching for the bag of nuts and munch again.<br />That's my stop. I signaled the driver, stood up before he slowed down and stepped on the breaks. That's when I noticed she was wearing a pair of black leather shoes. The kind that high school teenagers wear as part of their uniform ensemble.<br />Oh joy! There were no pedicabs in sight. I didn't want to walk one-hundred fifty meters to our house. I was really exhausted. I came from the grandstand where I jogged almost six rounds. I was with Jerome, Romeo and Paulo. We headed for the boulevard afterwards, ate balot (I had two), tempura and downed a 12-ounce bottle of mountain dew.<br />There was nothing at that moment I wanted to do more than just lie down on my bed and get a power nap before I hit the showers.<br />Bent on not having that walk, I waited. Ten minutes have passed but still no pedicabs in sight. Pissed off, I started walking when someone called out my attention. The Lord is so magnanimous. A pedicab!<br />I reached our house still thinking of the bag of Sugo salted peanuts. I completely forgot the lady's oily face.<br /></span></div>Ciriacohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10802895226364843541noreply@blogger.com3