Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Consider the people in the Philippine Congress for example. In a nutshell, the so-called-representatives-of-the-people are up in arms because the Supreme Court has dismissed their filing of TWO impeachment complaints against the Ombudsman. The law states that only one can be filed and these bright guys still insisted on having the complaints passed. Now they're calling the justice branch names like crony of the past president (who put the supreme court members there in the first place) and etcetera... They're even accusing it of creating a constitutional crisis, one that they are actually starting themselves.
A city mayor is seen crying and pounding the table with his fists because he is implicated in the hostage crisis that claimed many lives. He's crying that all the police have ever done was die for the people and so on... all that what he has worked for and the name he created for himself ... are all down the drain because of this accusation that as mayor, he should be blamed... more tears.Duh
Squatters clash with the police and members of the demolition team in a supposed private lot near EDSA. It is known that notices of eviction have been served many times in the past months and still the illegal occupants refused to budge. In a final sign of defiance, they seek the intervention of the reigning popular president to order a halt in the demolition. This is of course done through the watchful media whose coverage is seen worldwide. The president, who is presently in the US on a formal state visit orders a halt in the demolition. The squatters are happy.
The lawyers of the Ampatuans continue to create one delaying tactic after another to postpone the hearing of one of the most gruesome massacres in history. It is clear that for all their millions, the Ampatuans are happy because their lawyers are doing a very good job indeed.
I can't wait for tonight's evening news...and may God forget about Justin Beiber for a while and seriously bless this country. Amen
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Years ago, I met an older woman in Koln whom we all regarded as mother. In the short time we were there, we became very close so that when the time to part came, it was difficult for me. Then she told me something I will never forget. True friends, she said, wherever they are, no matter how far apart, shall remain that. When they meet, they shall simply start where they left off and begin the cycle once again. No gaps. No pretenses and most certainly, no sadness.
I admit that I have acquired some really interesting jewels in my heart's closet and they remain there still, safely tucked away until my last breath. They know who they are, confident in our friendship and needing nothing else. For those who whine away over errant friends, "fake" friends and "f_king" friends, remember only one thing: use or abuse them... and you lose them. Another thing, the moment you demand that they be with you in your time of need, YOU are not a friend and they have become nothing but crutches. True friends come anyway whatever weather in your life.
P.S. So let's stop wasting our jewels. We have to be reminded that we have to HELP OURSELVES FIRST and not rely on those around us to fight our battles for us. That's watching too many cavalry movies.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
I try to hold your hand but still your eyes stray
I try to make you songs
but you didn't seem to mind
it seems to me
you're engrossed in your own time
I'm leaning on hopes
I'm leaning on dreams
I'm leaning on practically everything
that is you.
And there were times
when it seemed I was breaking through your walls
just to find another that's
just as tall
at nights I'm always hoping
but baby it ain't all
I love you.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
when all the laughter dies in sorrow
and the tears have risen to a flood
and all the wars have found a cause
in human wisdom and in blood.
do you think they’ll cry in sadness?
do you think the eye will blink?
do you think they’ll curse the madness?
do you even think… they’ll think?
when all the great galactic systems
sigh to a frozen halt in space,
do you think there’ll be a remnant of beauty
of the human race?
do you think there’ll be a vestige,
a sniffle, or a cosmic tear?
do you think, a greater thinking thing,
will give a damn…
that man was here?
(Canon, the Chicago’s first album, 1972)
The knowing smiles from the worn out faces make me smile myself, especially when the owners are old friends, talking about the "know-it-all" posturing of their teen children. "How can i study without that Ipod?, i need music!" or " I need soccer in my activities or else how can I cope with first year?" huh?
Tired faces who’ve seen better days. There was a time I saw them like fresh daisies, all glistening with the sweat of youth, running around campus, leaflets in hand, passing out schedules and rally points, debating on puns and dialectics, even sharing the latest playboy in the safety of the science lab. Or dead drunk, with saliva slowly making that shiny journey from mouth to the floor.
Now, who’d ever imagine that after all those glorious days that never seem to end, we’d all come down to this: pudgy blobs of french fry fat, sitting drinking coffee and pathetically reduced to following the dictum of that age-old-tradition where one is imposed upon to attend reunions and relive the "good-old-days" ?
"I hate my children", my friend says. "They’re too much like me! All day till dinner, i sit with a bunch of clones who hug my tv and rob me of my favorite channels. I go out and play golf and my " prodigies" pile up in the car and try to put on their best dad joke. my neighbors think I’m cool but really, cool to the touch is more like it… almost dead cool."
As for me, I’m with my son everyday. Almost every second of the day to be exact. He’s eight, calls me tree trunk, likes to reads Greek Mythology and invents monsters and legends as if he had a copyright to them. Clutters of drawings, rough sketches and cardboard posters litter our house so much that I’ve numbers of times swore to the high heavens that I’ll never clean up again, ever.
He thinks the ATM counter is the place where grownups get money given by the government. Free. So why can’t I buy him the latest K-Zone, when he knows I have money right? He likes to call me "My King" and sometimes fixes the bed to look like a throne, compleat with a tray of juice and biscuits, but he bosses me around the house and reminds me to stop being stressed whenever i shout "you're killing me!". At least i don’t hate him. love that little guy so much, i still hug him tight when he sleeps. oh well, what do you know, the old tree trunk’s a softie.
The day is almost over and the color of the day turns into an earthy shade. The neighbor’s kids along with the neighbor’s dogs intrude upon the serenity of memories. Time to fade once again. Let’s crawl back to where we came from. Till next reunion.