Happy To Be Alone

Hello blogspot.com! Long time no blog, huh! Anyway, I just dropped by to, of course, drop something as well. Haha!

I have been into somehow, in some ways, good life lately. I was able to enter one of the TV Networks of my choice to have my television training for partial completion of my course. Way back January, I wrote my goals for the year in my diary. One of them is this, to be accepted for my OJT in Net25, aside from ABS-CBN or GMA7. Well, it was the last network of my choice, but still, I am happy and it feels enough to be in there. Just enough.

I prepared myself to accept whatever it is that may come my way during my OJT, including the nega thing-ies (things). I learned how to observe and apply my observation in my very first training day. The rest, I had to learn and work the most independent way I can.

Let me share my experience.

The test is not just to stay in a station where everybody is a stranger to me. I am the only student from our batch to be in that station, that is something I am proud of. At least, I had the guts to enter such kind of world. And I don't regret naman.

The other tests are as follow:

I was left alone in the office on my second training day. No one would bother to help me out with opening their Mac Computers with various company passcodes including their sort of Online Private Database, whatever. I tried asking, SEVERAL TIMES, but they won’t bother to answer IMMEDIATELY. I had to keep my patience longer; I had to believe that PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE in this office. I also had to memorize several phone numbers, for I am a reporter slash instant secretary in there. I learned how to answer, transfer, and make phone calls. My main work when in the office is to put my headsets on (or if none, just rely on the speakers) and listen to the radio and monitor news broadcasts. So now, listening to radio has become my hobby. LOL.

The best part is when I’m going around the metro, gathering news with my senior reporter, camera man, and driver. I feel blessed during those times and cursed when in the office.

I wish to earn more knowledge in my later stay. Last week ko na lang nyan after this blog. But I'm not yet contented with what i have learned lately. I wish to be, to do, and learn better.

However, that's not everything I want to share. So let me share more experiences.

I am lucky to experience the best joyrides EVER in my life. I roam around Quezon City all by myself for the first time by riding several jeepneys, MRT, and even went back home to Angeles City riding the bus na STANDING OVATION PA. Sa’n ka pa te? Haha! I treasure those moments. Those added to my confidence to facing the world. And I get to know more myself. Na eto pala ako. Na kaya ko pala eto. Na ganito lang pala yon.

I also experienced going to the Central Temple of the INC’s, alone. This is a different story anyway. I might share it through another blog. J

One time, as I was walking in SM North Edsa, I noticed my face in the glass walls of stores, smiling. Kahit na it might look a little strange to people that pass by me, KIBER (I don’t care). I just kept smiling and even sung while walking. I felt so free and single. And I made a promise to myself at that very moment that after three to five years; I will be walking on the same mall, looking and buying anything that I desire to have. Normal lang ang ganitong pangarap. Di ba? Haha!

O siya, marami pa kong bubuuing pangarap after this blog. :)

Bad Dream

We dream every night of our sleep. Some we can still remember as we wake up, but mostly are left lying there. Just there. In our dream. And there’s no way we can retrieve them.

I woke up late in the morning. And it wasn’t a nice sleep. Although my eyes are closed and my body is at rest, my mind continues thinking about subconscious matters and I feel restless. Especially when this dream starts bothering me over and over again or should I say almost every night of this week’s sleeps. And whenever I wake up, I could feel tears dashing down my eyes. A not so good start for my day I believe. Thus I still have to wear a smile throughout the day and stay positive. I had to convince myself that my dreams are just dreams, brought about by my playful mind.

Dreams are series of images. It was a dark room. No much light I can see except for a light that is slowly coming nearer to me. Suddenly, I felt afraid. That’s the first picture. Then another of a man, standing. Not that big man but has bulky muscles. All I can remember is his eyes. His monster-like eyes, almost red, so big. And I can hear sobs, sobs that is full of hurt, pain, and sorrows. Cries that is filled with terror and fright. Only to find out that it’s my father hitting me with a piece of wood, slapping my face and shouting at me. I can hear no sound coming from him, but I can feel the aching I was bearing right at that moment, as if it was real. Perhaps, it is indeed a part of my darkest memories. I almost wanted to wake up, but there’s something pushing me to keep going with my dream. And another scene, I can see my mom walking with a lady, shopping around, so happy and gay. While me, stays somewhere in a corner. A separate dark corner, alone. I remember my latest sentiments to my mom that she would not want to go out with me and walk around the city. She would insist that she’s busy but in the evening, I would just find out that she just went out with her best friend. I would suddenly feel hurt, for choosing her best friend over her daughter. But I cannot keep the pain. I let it go and understand.

Maybe, that’s the sense of my dreams. That I let go of the pain but not the memory of what caused the pain. My subconscious mind reminds me of my past and of my sentiments but I don’t know yet why remind me of those dark moments and painful thoughts. All I know is that I have to push through with life though I had a bad sleep.

Tabi tabi po, Usapang Relihiyon lamang.

Kung ang pagiging makasalanan ang pumipigil sa daloy ng biyaya, hindi ba matamang tingnan mo muna ang iyong sarili bago ibaling sa iba ang sisi?

Madaling araw na ako nakatulog. Pinipilit ko kasing pigain ang utak ko ng lumabas ang mga hinihintay kong ideya na magpapaganda sa isinusulat kong sanaysay. Sanaysay, hindi salaysay. Salaysay, ang nakakabinging salita at nakakawindang na papel na ginagawa namin kapag hindi namin nagagampanan ang aming tungkulin. Ang salaysay, na kinatatakutan ng marami sa amin.

Madaling araw na din akong nagising. Ensayo ko kasi sa pagka-mang-aawit sa aming kapilya. Kahit mahirap, pinipilit kong magampanan ang tawag ng aking tungkulin. Doon kami kilala, sa pagiging matiisin at matyaga sa mga gampanin sa aming relihiyon. Malamang sa marami na nakakakilala sa akin, alam nila ang aking kinabibilangan. Ngunit hindi ko ito ginagawa upang tuligsain ang kahit na sinoman o ang aming relihiyon mismo. Nais ko lamang sanang ipahayag ang damdamin na nakakubli habang hawak ko ang aking “clear book” kanina sa ensayo.

Ritwal na siguro ang makarinig ng pangaral at tagubilin mula sa mga nakatataas sa amin tuwing bago magsimula ang ensayo. Mga paalala na kailangan namin upang masubaybayan ang kanilang nasasakupan. Tanggap ko na isa na ako don, sa mga “pasaway” na nagdudulot ng sakit ng ulo sa aming mga pangulo tuwing sila’y napupuna sa gawain ng kanilang mga sakop na mag-aawit. Ngunit kung mabibigyan lang kami ng pagkakataon na magpaliwanang para sa mga pasaway na kagaya ko, siguro maiiwasan ang hind pagkakaintindihan at samaan ng loob. Nga lang, ang madalas ay nakatikom ang aming bibig at ipinagkikibit balikat na lamang ang madalas at mapait na panghuhusga.

Naniniwala kasi ako na walang tao ang masama. Nakalalabag man sila sa utos ng Diyos, siguradong may dahilan. Dahilan na dadaanan ang kanilang personal na buhay, mga ideya at problema na hindi maiintindihan ng tao kung hindi sila tatanungin. Naalala ko nga, minsan akong nasabihan na sinungaling tuwing nagdadahilan sa aking madalas na pagliban sa pagtupad. Nasaktan ako dun. Kailan ma’y hindi ko gagawan ng kwento ang aking hindi pagtupad. Ngunit ng mga pagkakataong iyon, mas pinili kong ngitian na lamang ang aming pangulo at umalis ng mapayapa. Iniisp ko na lamang na pagmamahal na lamang niya yon na gisingin at paalalahanan ako sa aking nakakaligtaang responsibilidad kahit na pa sabihin kong may dahilan ang aking pagliban. Sa kabilang banda, tao lang din naman sila.

Natuwa ako. Na nagpadala ang Ama ng isang tagapag-turo na magbibigay solusyon sa aming mga problema sa pag-awit. Ngunit ang mismong taong ito, hindi rin nakaligtas sa bulok na sistema ng pagtanggap sa bagong kapanalig ng aming grupo. Ramdam naming mga naka-upo sa koro na may kung anong mabigat na kalooban ang bumabalot mula sa aming mga taga-panguna. Dahil ba sila’y nahaluan ng panibagong tao na makakahati nila sa kapangyarihang mamahala sa amin? Huwag naman sana. Maging siya ay hindi nakaligtas sa mapang-husgang mata ng mga nagmamasid. Pinagtatawanan maging ng mga kapwa niya mang-aawit. Nasaan na ang respeto, paggalang at mainit na pagtanggap na pinakapundamento ng isang taong nasa tamang pag-uugali. Ang dapat na manalig na pagmamahalan sa magkakapatid ay tila ba mailap nang mga pagkakataong iyon. Nalungkot ako.

Natapos ang ensayo na mabigat ang aking kalooban. Nakita ko na lamang ang nakaka-awang bagong kapanalig na naglalakad mag-isa sa daan, na walang sinuman ang naglakas ng loob kausapin siya at kaibiganin. Maging ako.

Naalala ko tuloy sa aking paglabas sa kapilya ang aral na binanggit sa amin ng aming destinado. Na ang kasalanan ang nagpapabigat sa aming mga pagtupad. Na hindi maakay sa matamang pag-awit ang mga sumasamba dahil kami mismo ay may problema. Kami daw kasi ang unang daluyan ng biyaya dahil sa aming mga pag-awit. Kaya dapat, kami din ang magsilbing modelo sa mga sumasambang kapatid. Kung ang pagiging makasalanan ang pumipigil sa daloy ng biyaya, hindi ba matamang tingnan muna ng aming mga taga-panguna ang kanilang relasyon sa bawat isa, na dapat ay “harmonious” at masaya kung baga bago kami mapagsabihan at mapamukhaan na para bang kami na ang pinakamakasalanan?

Hindi naman ako nagrerebelde. Naisip ko lamang ang mga ito. Dahil pagkatapos kong ilabas ang mga ito, naalala ko naman ang sinabi ng aking ina. “Diyos ang sinasamba mo, hindi tao para tingnan ang kanila ding mga pagkakamali. Kung sila lamang ang pagbabasehan mo ng iyong paniniwala, walang patutunguhan ang paghahanap mo ng kapayapaan.”

Si JACK...

I thought my day will be as plain as black and white. I closed my eyes at 9 a.m. after my church responsibilities and activities. I woke up at 3p.m. It was a straight sleep and it seemed like I did not move from my original body position when I fell asleep. The bed cover not messed up and my pillow still on its original place. I woke up, immovable, my eyes just staring at the ceiling. Until I heard a voice from somewhere saying, “Tao po?”

I did not immediately recognize that it was the voice of my brother’s friend calling from the gate of our house. Forced to stand up, I went out of the bed, walked down the stairs and opened the gates. Still not with myself, I let this friend of my brother who happens to be my friend na rin, to enter the house. He put his bike inside and locked it as well. When he sat down the sofa, I stared at him and asked, “Why are you here?” He laughed and answered, “Ate Ems, you OK? I came for your brother. Is he here?” My mind still buffering and loading, seconds after his last words, I replied: “He’s not here.” Then this friend blankly stared at me and then laughed. “Ate Ems, you better take more rest.” He went out of the house after the nonsensical conversation and then I sat on the sofa.

Few minutes later, I have heard another voice calling from the outside. Same words as “Tao po.” And then I peeked on the screen door, but from my line of sight, no one’s visible. I decided to check the gate further. I looked down and there they are! I saw two kids waiting by the gate. Two cute kids actually. A girl and a boy. Both look as if they have an agenda with me, so serious huh. I looked down and asked them, “Why are you here kiddos?” They immediately and firmly answered back, “Where is JACK?” “HUH??” “I said, where’s JACK?!”

These kids made my day. Where in the hell they got the name of JACK? There’s no JACK living in our house. LOL.

Unspoken, spoken

It was a creative and productive discussion with our creative writing teacher this afternoon. I even wrote some of her remarkable statements which I can relate to in order to add to my inspiration and stock of wisdom (imaginary wisdom maybe).


“Today may be a fiction but for tomorrow, it might be the truth.”

My mind started thinking of sensible thoughts upon hearing this. Very simple yet so deep. So deep that I was even able to imagine that what if I was transferred from this current time to Einstein’s time? Maybe, I can be pronounced as one of the greatest scientists that ever existed. For my teacher added that people of today are actually more intelligent than people of yesterday. This was brought by the issue that our creative teacher raised to us: “Youth are more imaginative than adults.”

It’s not that I am not thinking, or maybe some may say that I am too shallow to respond, in compliment to that statement, that the reason behind this is that adults have more concerns than youth that it takes adults lesser time to think and reflect. Their scarcity of moment to imagine gives the youth the edge to come up with brighter and wider variation of ideas. Youth, obviously, may have many concerns too but are not as heavy as the concerns adults have. I wanted to say more, but I opted not to when I delivered to my teacher the simplest and most obvious answer a student can give why adults are less imaginative than the youth. And maybe you can relate with me if you too, has experienced this occurrence where after affirming on something, suddenly, you shift from your stand and then unstoppable pop out of ideas will dictate that you wanted to flip or contradict your own opinion.

After affirming to my teacher that youth are actually more creative than adult due to their concerns and priorities, is like that I have just said that I am more creative than my teacher. This, I thought, is not right (maybe, ay ewan! ^_^). My teacher is way too creative than me. She made me think about things I have never thought before. I wanted to share a separate opinion from my answer, (but I got shy to talk right after I have just talked for my classmates might judge my being too active or whatever. It’s the class’ nature to often react on simple matters though your goal is just to be yourself and to say something you think might be of help and for them to think about too. But anyway, to fasten this segue, I just ended up blogging my unspoken thoughts a while ago).

It’s not that youth is more creative than any stage else, but as for me, it is rather better to say that the foundation of building your creativity, perhaps, starts from this age, the youth stage. It is then that through later on experiences, we tend to add and spice up more of our ideas and things to think about. If you have built a high meter of creativity during your youthful stage, it may be possible that you would be more creative as you grow older. You know, it’s not just the height and body that grows, nor the age that increases, but also creativity as we see more in time and explore more in life.

So there, I’m done with this. I just wanted to say something. :)

Faces of the Day

This day wasn’t that good and it wasn’t that bad either. :)

The moment I woke up, I told myself to wear a big smile right there and there as I walk out of my room and walk down the stairs. The first person I saw was my mother. I’ll always love to see my mother at the very start of my day. She smiled like an angel, with breakfast ready on top of our table. Mixed rice and fried chicken drumsticks, hotdogs, eggs, never miss the Filipino’s bread, pan de sal, and my most favorite, chocolate milk drink with cute crashed ice that makes it extra ordinarily cold and frosty. What a… :p

Anyway, doing the ordinary thingy, I prepared for school. I took a bath so well and dressed well too, excited to wear my new shoes and show to my friends my newly dyed hair. LOL. I was done preparing everything at 8 to think that class starts at 8:30. I decided to spend the remaining minutes on my bed. Just laid down there and stared at the ceiling. I call this my BLANK MOMENT. I was looking at nothing and thinking of nothing. At exactly 8:20, the light immediately turned off by itself, and then follows the blower, and then silence came next. It’s just then that I realized that power’s off. And that this is God’s way of saying, “Darling, you have to go to school already.” (Ooooh. I get reminded of Sir “W” when I hear Darling. Haha!) So I walked out of the house. It’s too gloomy for 8 AM morning though. Still, I decided to walk with poise and put smile on my face. “No sun for me this morning, so here’s my smile that will serve as sunshine then,” I told myself while smiling more while thinking of it. I rode the green jeepney to school (which I missed riding this sembreak). While waiting for the red light to turn into green, the jeepney passed by this house that destroyed my happy drive. It seems like a man was battering his wife right in front of the door of their house where neighbors can see them, including passersby. What pissed me off is that the neighbors just watched while the woman gets hurt by her husband. No one tried to intrude the battering scene but the chismoso(s) and chismosa(s) out there just kept on looking and talking about them, creating business out of the scenario. That’s so unhappy to see so early in the morning. I thought scenes like that are just seen on TV. I reached the entrance of PS, AUF, bothered. :/

I walked up to the classroom and saw my classmates waiting by the corridors. One immediately noticed my newly dyed hair and made fun of it. I answer back, “May kalawang kasi yung tubig sa’men eh,” then laughed. It was more fun when somebody from my classmates replied, “Wow, pwedeng maki-ligo sa inyo! Astig tubig nyo Ems!” LOL. The doors of our extra-large classroom were still closed but teacher’s coming already. It’s him. Professor Woulda, Coulda, Gonna. I hate him when he says “woulda, coulda, gonna.” It seems unprofessional of him to think that he is a Corporate Comm teacher who should speak formally, using formal English. Anyway, he kept on asking consecutive questions and called my name around three to four times, all during my daydream moment, so I wasn’t able to feedback properly. But I don’t regret it. I don’t mind. The moment that first subject is done, me together with a good friend went downstairs and bought foods. Then chit-chat. That’s what I did for the rest of the day, chit-chat. No teachers coming so I decided to just go home by lunch time and take a rest. Badly, I missed to meet my Creative Writing teacher because I went home early. Now, I’m enjoying blogging. ( HUH? What an ending? :D)

"IT" has been a part of me

Since I was a kid, I could say that my family is not always in good terms. My mom and dad often fight. They argue even of simple matters, matters that if only they could talk about in a nice and more systematic way with due respect and understanding plus acceptance of one another’s opinion and thoughts, won’t lead to misunderstandings giving way to worse problems that contribute to family’s status at stake. I got used to the system or should I say, we got used to the system (me, including my two brothers). Because of this, we did not grow up too expressive of what we feel. We did not grow up sweet and caring to our parents, brothers or my brothers to me. We grew up knowing not much of one another’s inner personality. We grew up not so engaging with one another’s thoughts though we are living in one roof. I even said one time, jokingly, “My family is whole but incomplete,” though the truth is, half of the joke is really meant by me.

I was only in grade six when I got a cell phone. That’s the very moment I first learned how to text and make phone calls. I even felt superiority over those who do not have the gadget because only few people got cell phones at that time unlike nowadays. This gadget became my best friend. Best friend in good and bad ways.

At first, I treat it just as a gadget as it really is. Later on, it is becoming more sensible to me. It’s like saying, “Nang dahil sa kanya.. Haay buti na lang nandito ito... Buti na lang talaga…” as if it is a person I am talking or thanking to giving it much likeness and appreciating its existence. If not because of my cell phone, I won’t be kept in touch with my friends and loved one♥. In my family’s type of relationship present within the members, my way of surviving in this kind of setting is to have someone to talk to in which, with the presence of my cell phone, I am able to do so. I could survive without being able to talk to my housemates in a day for as long as I have my phone with me (with load pleaseJ). This is the biggest help of my cell phone to me as I see it on my view point. However, because of it, I got addicted to texting especially during the high school days. It was in fourth year high school that I got an unbelievable blood pressure of 90/50 during one of my check ups and this was due to too much lack of sleep. Who is to blame? Or should I say, what is to blame? LOL.

This has been few of my self scrutiny since this thing came into my life. I even experience this scenario that even while you sleep, you are not comfortable unless you have it beside you. Even going to CR, it has to be with me. I use it as a music player while taking a bath or even while doing the call of nature. When I eat, it has become a part of the table setting placed beside the spoon. Ask me to enumerate the parts of the computer surely cell phone is now part of it, placed in front of the monitor beside the mouse. I even cry a lot whenever I experience losing my cell phone and while I’m blogging this blog of mine, my cell phone is just right in front of me. Funny or weird, whatever you say upon this stuff, it’s just me and it. It, becoming a part of me, for years already.

That is why I got caught by the theory which says MEDIA is equals to REAL LIFE, presenting, Media Equation respectively. It made me smile a bit, knowing that I am covered or an existing example of this theory. Brilliant Byron Reeves and Clifford Nass, if only I lived during their lifetime I could’ve been one of their fans. I thought I’m different, an outcast, because I feel weird of myself giving too much love for my cell phone. Now I knew that I’m not alone and there is an explanation to such phenomenon I am feeling through years. This is not just in the context of a cell phone but the media, all that it covers. People not only do but “treat” computers as if they were humans. Thank you to Communication theory (Ma’am Virgie), I was able to reflect and understand more of my self-observation.