Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Hottah! Hottah! Summer na!
Saturday, March 26, 2005
The Choice
Max Lucado
“Why do I want to do bad?” my daughter asked me, unknowingly posing a question asked by many seekers of truth. “Why do I do the thing I hate? What is this ape that gibbers within?” or, perhaps a more basic question is being asked. “If sin separates me from God, why doesn’t God separate me from sin? Why doesn’t He remove me from the option to sin?”
To answer that, let’s go to the beginning.
Let’s go to the Garden and see the seed that both blessed and cursed. Lets see why God gave man…the choice.
Behind it all was the choice. A deliberate decision. An informed move. He didn’t have to do it. But He chose to. He knew the price. He saw the implications. He was aware of the consequences.
We don’t know when he decided to do it. We can’t know. Not just because we weren’t there. Because time was not there. When did not exixst. Nor did tomorrow or yesterday or next time. For there was no time.
We don’t know when He thought about making the choice. But we do know that He made it. He didn’t have to. He chose to.
He chose to create.
“In the beginning God created…”
With one decision, history began. Existence became measurable.
Out of nothing came light.
Out of light came day.
Then came sky…and earth.
And on this earth? A mighty hand went to work.
Canyons were carved. Oceans were dug. Mountains erupted out of flatlands. Stars were flung. A universe sparkled.
Our sun became just one of millions. Our galaxy became just one of thousands. Planets invisibly tethered to suns roared through space at breakneck speeds. Stars blazed with heat that could melt our planet in seconds.
The hand behind it was mighty. He is mighty.
And with this might, He created. As naturally as a bird sings and a fish swims, He created. Just as an artist can’t not paint and a runner can’t not run, He couldn’t not create. He was the Creator. Through and through, He was the Creator. A tireless dreamer and designer.
From the pallet of the Ageless Artist came inimitable splendors. Before there was a person to see it, His creation was pregnant with wonder. Flowers didn’t just grow, they blossomed. Chicks weren’t just born; they hatched. Salmons didn’t just swim; they leaped.
Mundaneness found no home in His universe.
He must have loved it. Creators relish creating. I’m sure His commands were delightful! “Hippo, you won’t walk…you’ll waddle!” “Hyena, a bark is too plain. Let me show you how to laugh!” “Look, raccoon, I’ve made you a mask!” “Come here, giraffe, let’s stretch that neck a bit.” And on and on He went. Giving the clouds their puff. Giving the oceans their blue. Giving the trees their sway. Giving the frogs their leap and croak. The mighty wed with the creative, and creation was born.
He was mighty. He was creative.
And He was love. Even greater than His might and deeper than His creativity was one all-consuming characteristic:
Love.
Water must be wet. A fire must be hot. You can’t take the wet out of water and still have water. You can’t take the heat out of fire and still have fire.
In the same way you can’t take the love out of this One who lived before time and still have Him exist. For He was…and is…Love.
Probe deep within Him. Explore every corner. Search every angle. Love is all you find. Go to the beginning of every decision He has made and you’ll find it. Go to the end of every story He has told and you’ll see it.
Love.
No bitterness. No evil. No cruelty. Just love. Flawless love. Passionate love. Vast and pure love. He is love.
As a result, an elephant has a trunk with which to drink. A kitten has a mother from which to nurse. A bird has a nest in which to sleep. The same God who was mighty enough to carve out the canyon is tender enough to put hair on the legs of the Matterhorn Fly to keep it warm. The same force that provides symmetry to the planets guides the baby kangaroo to its mother’s pouch before the mother knows it is born.
And because of who He was, He did what He did.
He created a paradise. A sinless sanctuary. A haven before fear. A home before there was a human dweller. No time. No death. No hurt. A gift built by God for His ultimate creation. And when He was through, He knew “it was very good.”
But it wasn’t enough. His greatest work hadn’t been completed. One final masterpiece was needed before He would stop.
Look to the canyons to see the Creator’s splendor. Touch the flowers and see His delicacy. Listen to the thunder and hear His power. But gaze on this—the zenith—and witness all three…and more.
Imagine with me what may have taken place on that day.
He placed one scoop of clay upon another until a form lay lifeless on the ground.
All of the Garden’s inhabitants paused to witness the event. Hawks hovered. Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed. Butterflies paused on petals and watched.
“You will love me, nature,” God said. “I made you that way. You will obey me, universe. For you were designed to do so. You will reflect my glory, skies, for that is how you were created. But this one will be like me. This one will be able to choose.”
Creation stood in silence and gazed upon the lifeless form.
An angel spoke, “But what if he…”
“What if he chooses not to love?” the Creator finished. “Come, I will show you.”
Unbound by today, God and the angel walked into the realm of tomorrow.
‘There, see the fruit of the seed of choice, both the sweet and the bitter.”
The angel gasped at what he saw. Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion. Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything like these. He felt the love of the Adams. He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters. He saw the food and the burdens shared. He absorbed the kindness and marveled at the warmth.
“Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord. Truly, this is your greatest creation.”
“Ah, but you’ve only seen the sweet. Now witness the bitter.”
A stench enveloped the pair. The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, “What is it?”
The Creator spoke only one word: “Selfishness.”
The angel stood speechless as they passed through centuries of repugnance. Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts. Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties. Children of the creation wandering blindly in lonely labyrinths.
“This is the result of choice?” the angel asked.
“Yes.”
“They will forget you?”
“Yes.”
“They will reject you?”
“Yes.”
“They will never come back?”
“Some will. Most won’t.”
“What will it take to make them listen?”
The Creator walked on in time, further and further into the future, until He stood by a tree. A tree that would be fashioned into a cradle. Even then He could smell the hay that would surround Him.
With another step into the future, He paused before another tree. It stood alone, a stubborn ruler of a bald hill.
The trunk was thick, and the wood was strong. Soon it would be cut. Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it would be mounted on the stony brow of another hill. And soon He would be hung on it.
He felt the wood rub against a back He did not yet wear.
“Will you go down there?” the angel asked.
“I will.”
“Is there no other way?”
“There is not.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to not plant the seed? Wouldn’t it be easier to not give the choice?”
“It would,” the Creator spoke slowly. “But to remove the choice is to remove the love.”
He looked around the hill and foresaw a scene. Three figures hung on three crosses. Arms spread. Heads fallen forward. They moaned with the wind.
Men clad in soldiers’ garb sat on the ground near the trio. They played games in the dirt and laughed.
Men clad in religion stood off to one side. They smiled. Arrogant, cocky. They had protected God, they thought, by killing this false one.
Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward. One put her arm around another and tried to lead her away. She wouldn’t leave. “I will stay,” she said softly. “I will stay.”
All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to rescue. All eternity poised to protect. But the Creator gave no command.
“It must be done…,” He said, and withdrew.
But as He stepped back in time, He heard the cry that He would one day scream: ”My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” he wrenched at tomorrow’s agony.
The angel spoke again. “It would be less painful…”
The Creator interrupted softly. “But it wouldn’t be love.”
They stepped into the Garden again. The Maker looked earnestly at the clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled up within Him. God’s form bent over the sculptured face and breathed. Dust stirred on the lips of the new one. The chest rose, cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened. A finger moved. And an eye opened.
But more incredible than the moving of the flesh was the stirring of the spirit. Those who could see the unseen gasped.
Perhaps it was the wind who said it first. Perhaps what the star saw that moment is what has made it blink ever since. Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it:
“It looks like…it appears so much like…it is Him!”
The angel wasn’t speaking of the face, the features, or the body. He was looking inside—at the soul.
“It’s eternal!” gasped another.
Within the man, God had placed a divine seed. A seed of His self. The God of might had created earth’s mightiest. The Creator had created, not a creature, but another creator. And the One who had chosen to love had created one who could love in return.
Now it’s our choice.
“Why do I want to do bad?” my daughter asked me, unknowingly posing a question asked by many seekers of truth. “Why do I do the thing I hate? What is this ape that gibbers within?” or, perhaps a more basic question is being asked. “If sin separates me from God, why doesn’t God separate me from sin? Why doesn’t He remove me from the option to sin?”
To answer that, let’s go to the beginning.
Let’s go to the Garden and see the seed that both blessed and cursed. Lets see why God gave man…the choice.
Behind it all was the choice. A deliberate decision. An informed move. He didn’t have to do it. But He chose to. He knew the price. He saw the implications. He was aware of the consequences.
We don’t know when he decided to do it. We can’t know. Not just because we weren’t there. Because time was not there. When did not exixst. Nor did tomorrow or yesterday or next time. For there was no time.
We don’t know when He thought about making the choice. But we do know that He made it. He didn’t have to. He chose to.
He chose to create.
“In the beginning God created…”
With one decision, history began. Existence became measurable.
Out of nothing came light.
Out of light came day.
Then came sky…and earth.
And on this earth? A mighty hand went to work.
Canyons were carved. Oceans were dug. Mountains erupted out of flatlands. Stars were flung. A universe sparkled.
Our sun became just one of millions. Our galaxy became just one of thousands. Planets invisibly tethered to suns roared through space at breakneck speeds. Stars blazed with heat that could melt our planet in seconds.
The hand behind it was mighty. He is mighty.
And with this might, He created. As naturally as a bird sings and a fish swims, He created. Just as an artist can’t not paint and a runner can’t not run, He couldn’t not create. He was the Creator. Through and through, He was the Creator. A tireless dreamer and designer.
From the pallet of the Ageless Artist came inimitable splendors. Before there was a person to see it, His creation was pregnant with wonder. Flowers didn’t just grow, they blossomed. Chicks weren’t just born; they hatched. Salmons didn’t just swim; they leaped.
Mundaneness found no home in His universe.
He must have loved it. Creators relish creating. I’m sure His commands were delightful! “Hippo, you won’t walk…you’ll waddle!” “Hyena, a bark is too plain. Let me show you how to laugh!” “Look, raccoon, I’ve made you a mask!” “Come here, giraffe, let’s stretch that neck a bit.” And on and on He went. Giving the clouds their puff. Giving the oceans their blue. Giving the trees their sway. Giving the frogs their leap and croak. The mighty wed with the creative, and creation was born.
He was mighty. He was creative.
And He was love. Even greater than His might and deeper than His creativity was one all-consuming characteristic:
Love.
Water must be wet. A fire must be hot. You can’t take the wet out of water and still have water. You can’t take the heat out of fire and still have fire.
In the same way you can’t take the love out of this One who lived before time and still have Him exist. For He was…and is…Love.
Probe deep within Him. Explore every corner. Search every angle. Love is all you find. Go to the beginning of every decision He has made and you’ll find it. Go to the end of every story He has told and you’ll see it.
Love.
No bitterness. No evil. No cruelty. Just love. Flawless love. Passionate love. Vast and pure love. He is love.
As a result, an elephant has a trunk with which to drink. A kitten has a mother from which to nurse. A bird has a nest in which to sleep. The same God who was mighty enough to carve out the canyon is tender enough to put hair on the legs of the Matterhorn Fly to keep it warm. The same force that provides symmetry to the planets guides the baby kangaroo to its mother’s pouch before the mother knows it is born.
And because of who He was, He did what He did.
He created a paradise. A sinless sanctuary. A haven before fear. A home before there was a human dweller. No time. No death. No hurt. A gift built by God for His ultimate creation. And when He was through, He knew “it was very good.”
But it wasn’t enough. His greatest work hadn’t been completed. One final masterpiece was needed before He would stop.
Look to the canyons to see the Creator’s splendor. Touch the flowers and see His delicacy. Listen to the thunder and hear His power. But gaze on this—the zenith—and witness all three…and more.
Imagine with me what may have taken place on that day.
He placed one scoop of clay upon another until a form lay lifeless on the ground.
All of the Garden’s inhabitants paused to witness the event. Hawks hovered. Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed. Butterflies paused on petals and watched.
“You will love me, nature,” God said. “I made you that way. You will obey me, universe. For you were designed to do so. You will reflect my glory, skies, for that is how you were created. But this one will be like me. This one will be able to choose.”
Creation stood in silence and gazed upon the lifeless form.
An angel spoke, “But what if he…”
“What if he chooses not to love?” the Creator finished. “Come, I will show you.”
Unbound by today, God and the angel walked into the realm of tomorrow.
‘There, see the fruit of the seed of choice, both the sweet and the bitter.”
The angel gasped at what he saw. Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion. Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything like these. He felt the love of the Adams. He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters. He saw the food and the burdens shared. He absorbed the kindness and marveled at the warmth.
“Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord. Truly, this is your greatest creation.”
“Ah, but you’ve only seen the sweet. Now witness the bitter.”
A stench enveloped the pair. The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, “What is it?”
The Creator spoke only one word: “Selfishness.”
The angel stood speechless as they passed through centuries of repugnance. Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts. Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties. Children of the creation wandering blindly in lonely labyrinths.
“This is the result of choice?” the angel asked.
“Yes.”
“They will forget you?”
“Yes.”
“They will reject you?”
“Yes.”
“They will never come back?”
“Some will. Most won’t.”
“What will it take to make them listen?”
The Creator walked on in time, further and further into the future, until He stood by a tree. A tree that would be fashioned into a cradle. Even then He could smell the hay that would surround Him.
With another step into the future, He paused before another tree. It stood alone, a stubborn ruler of a bald hill.
The trunk was thick, and the wood was strong. Soon it would be cut. Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it would be mounted on the stony brow of another hill. And soon He would be hung on it.
He felt the wood rub against a back He did not yet wear.
“Will you go down there?” the angel asked.
“I will.”
“Is there no other way?”
“There is not.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier to not plant the seed? Wouldn’t it be easier to not give the choice?”
“It would,” the Creator spoke slowly. “But to remove the choice is to remove the love.”
He looked around the hill and foresaw a scene. Three figures hung on three crosses. Arms spread. Heads fallen forward. They moaned with the wind.
Men clad in soldiers’ garb sat on the ground near the trio. They played games in the dirt and laughed.
Men clad in religion stood off to one side. They smiled. Arrogant, cocky. They had protected God, they thought, by killing this false one.
Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward. One put her arm around another and tried to lead her away. She wouldn’t leave. “I will stay,” she said softly. “I will stay.”
All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to rescue. All eternity poised to protect. But the Creator gave no command.
“It must be done…,” He said, and withdrew.
But as He stepped back in time, He heard the cry that He would one day scream: ”My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?” he wrenched at tomorrow’s agony.
The angel spoke again. “It would be less painful…”
The Creator interrupted softly. “But it wouldn’t be love.”
They stepped into the Garden again. The Maker looked earnestly at the clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled up within Him. God’s form bent over the sculptured face and breathed. Dust stirred on the lips of the new one. The chest rose, cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened. A finger moved. And an eye opened.
But more incredible than the moving of the flesh was the stirring of the spirit. Those who could see the unseen gasped.
Perhaps it was the wind who said it first. Perhaps what the star saw that moment is what has made it blink ever since. Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it:
“It looks like…it appears so much like…it is Him!”
The angel wasn’t speaking of the face, the features, or the body. He was looking inside—at the soul.
“It’s eternal!” gasped another.
Within the man, God had placed a divine seed. A seed of His self. The God of might had created earth’s mightiest. The Creator had created, not a creature, but another creator. And the One who had chosen to love had created one who could love in return.
Now it’s our choice.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
LS Reg #005
Series of 2005
Fire erupts from deep crevices on the ground as burning embers fall down from the already darkened sky. Slight aftershocks sweep across the buildings as shockwaves emit from every corner.
The spark of steel clashing against steel. A blacksmith’s masterpiece churning up chaos and beauty at the same time. Steel against steel. Steel against flesh.
“Hiten Mitsurugi, Amakekiro Ryuno Hirameki!”
Sparks fly. Steel against flesh.
And on the floor, a petite young woman lies with blood dripping from a wound. She wears a torn kimono with her wooden sword lying broken in her hands. She silently cries as her defender draws his sword in a Battou-Jitsu fashion, known to be an equal in speed with the ancient Japanese Shikuchi. She cries with fear, that her defender might not lose his life, much more, his credo.
Change of scenario.
She springs forward, thrusting her wooden sword into the blind side of her attacker, while a red-haired man lies against the wall, bleeding and spent. His cross-shaped scar once again drawing blood as he clutches his bleeding side as if to hold on for dear life.
The sound of wind being broken with each accurately placed swing of her weapon. The Kamiya-Kasshin trademark of speed and accuracy, well-placed with each succeeding thrust.
With every leap she makes, she glances back with tearful eyes at the man she protects with her very life. She willingly places herself in danger of death to ensure the safety of this man… this beaten, weakened man.
She stands between this man and the attacker. She faces her fallen love and touches his lips with her own, this touch sealed by a drop of her tears. Then she takes her stance and closes her eyes, as the shadow of her attacker devours the remaining light that shines.
Fire erupts from deep crevices on the ground as burning embers fall down from the already darkened sky. Slight aftershocks sweep across the buildings as shockwaves emit from every corner.
The spark of steel clashing against steel. A blacksmith’s masterpiece churning up chaos and beauty at the same time. Steel against steel. Steel against flesh.
“Hiten Mitsurugi, Amakekiro Ryuno Hirameki!”
Sparks fly. Steel against flesh.
And on the floor, a petite young woman lies with blood dripping from a wound. She wears a torn kimono with her wooden sword lying broken in her hands. She silently cries as her defender draws his sword in a Battou-Jitsu fashion, known to be an equal in speed with the ancient Japanese Shikuchi. She cries with fear, that her defender might not lose his life, much more, his credo.
Change of scenario.
She springs forward, thrusting her wooden sword into the blind side of her attacker, while a red-haired man lies against the wall, bleeding and spent. His cross-shaped scar once again drawing blood as he clutches his bleeding side as if to hold on for dear life.
The sound of wind being broken with each accurately placed swing of her weapon. The Kamiya-Kasshin trademark of speed and accuracy, well-placed with each succeeding thrust.
With every leap she makes, she glances back with tearful eyes at the man she protects with her very life. She willingly places herself in danger of death to ensure the safety of this man… this beaten, weakened man.
She stands between this man and the attacker. She faces her fallen love and touches his lips with her own, this touch sealed by a drop of her tears. Then she takes her stance and closes her eyes, as the shadow of her attacker devours the remaining light that shines.
Monday, February 21, 2005
LS Reg #004
LS Reg #004
Series of 2005
Carmen! Carmen! Aalis na, isa nalang… Carmen! Carmen!
Gusto ko sanang isigaw, “Kulit mo a! ‘Sabing hindi ako si Carmen e!” Sarap sanang pang-inis yun, pero nung panahong yun di kasi ako naghahanap ng away. Gusto ko lang makarating ng Carmen sa lalong madaling oras.
“Ayos, meron pa sa gitna…”, bulong ko sa sarili ko nang papalapit ako sa van. “Ay leche…”, nang makita ko yung uupuan ko, di ko matanto kung paano magkakasya ang puwitan ko sa katiting na upuang iyon. Isipin mo, ano ang “kalahating upo”? Yung tipong isang pisngi mo lang ang nakaupo diba? E yung lagay ko, kalahating pisngi lang ang nakaupo. Nagpasalamat nalang ako sa Diyos at wala akong pigsa sa pwet nung araw na ‘yon, kung hindi siguradong makakapatay ako ng tao ng di oras.
Paalis na ang van nang ma-realize ko’ng nakalimutan kong bumili ng Diatabs™ bago pumunta sa terminal. Delikado pa man din ako dahil sari-sari yung kinain ko bago umalis ng bahay. “Ayos lang siguro, may stopover naman…” Buong P500 ang natitirang pera sa bulsa ko, wala na rin lang akong barya para pambili man lang sana ng tubig o kendi. Nakalampas na ang van sa ulo ng dakilang leon sa Kennon nang maalala ko… “Wala palang stopover ang mga van…patay…”
Camp 5… Camp 4… Camp 3… kay bilis ng takbo ng van. Pero sa lagay kong iyon, nagmimistulang araw ang lumilipas… parang nung Grade 2 ka at atat na atat kang naghihintay ng bell para sa recess. Paano naman, sa ‘kapat na upo ko (err… yun ata yung Filipino ng ¼… ewan), nakaipit ang kanang balikat ko sa pinto at nakasabit naman sa hawakan sa bubong yung kaliwang braso ko. At habang tumatakbo ang sasakyan, nakalimutan ata naming lahat na de-aircon ang van kaya lahat kami sa loob e parang mga nakakaawang piraso ng puto bumbong tuwing pasko.
“Rosario na. Isang oras nalang…”, consolasyon ko sa sarili ko. Pero bago pa man din kami nakalampas ng Rosario, naisip ng driver na i-on ang radio. Okey lang sana e, pero ganito yung kanta… “i-shoot mo, i-shoot mo, i-shoot mo na ang ball! i-shoot mo na ang ball… ang sarap mag-basketbol!” Sa gitna ng asar, pawis at ang pagpupumilit na hindi matawa sa ideyang napagtritripan ata ako ng tadhana, nagawa ko na lamang na pumikit ang humiling na makunsenysa naman sana yung driver at mag-stopover siya… kahit limang minuto lang.
Kahit na napakainit sa loob ng van, nagawa ko pang pagmasdan yung magkatipan sa tabi ko. Pati na yung aleng nakaupo sa dulo na kababaeng tao e nakabukaka ang binti. Eto namang dalawang magsyota ang sarap ng upo. Tulog pa, ‘kamo. Nakasandal yung babae sa balikat ng lalaki. Sa sarap siguro ng posisyong iyon e nakalimutan nyang may katabi siyang lalaking ‘kapat lang ang upo at nakasabit lang sa pinto. Sa bawat pagliko ng van sa kaliwa ay unti-unting natutulak ang baywang ko. Sa bawat pagliko naman sa kanan ay nakakabawi ako ng upo. Minsan pinapakapal ko na yung mukha ko at medyo ipipilit kong iurong ang aking namamanhid na puwitan para makabawi ng upuan. Kung nasa harapan mo ako at ikaw ang nakaupo sa likod, magmimistula akong gagong sumusubok na kumalong sa katabi kong babae. Di ko man naririnig, alam kong pinagtatawanan ako ng mga pasahero sa likod. Wala naman akong magawa kundi humiling ulit na magkaroon sana sila ng pigsa sa pwet at malagay sa sitwasyon ko sa susunod na pagsakay nila ng van.
“Pozorrubio…manong para!”, palambing na bigkas ng boypren ng katabi kong babae. Di ko masukat kung anong klaseng ligaya yung naramdaman ko. Parang yung tatlong salitang yun ang pinakamarikit na mga salitang narinig ko. Nang tumigil ang van, kusa kong binuksan ang pinto at bumaba ako para hindi sila mahirapang bumaba ng van. Sa totoo lang, kailangan ko na ring tumayo para dumaloy ulit yung dugo sa puwet ko. Pagbaba nila e pumasok na rin ako, at sa pag-upo ko, nilubos-lubos ko na ang sarap ng pag-upo at ibinukaka na rin ang mga binti ko na parang nagsasabing, “Walang binatbat ang Jacuzzi dito…”
Urdaneta… Villasis… isang tulay na lang at nasa Carmen na ako. Isang malalim na hinga ang ipinamalas ko nang umakyat ang van sa panghuling tulay, kumaripas ng takbo patawid at parang eroplanong bumababa habang patungo ito sa katapusan ng tulay.
Carmen.
Di man ako taga-Carmen, parang ito na ang pinakamagandang lugar para sa akin mula nang ako’y maupo sa poot ng sanlibutang van na iyon. Halos hindi ako makahintay na makababa ng sasakyan at makahanap ng jeep o tricycle nang makarating agad sa aking destinasyon.
“Teka, nauuhaw ata ako…”, naisip ko nang aking mahagilap ang init ng hangin sa Carmen. Naghanap ako agad ng tindahan, kahit sari-sari store man lang o kung susuwertehin, kahit 7-11 sana. Wala akong madatnan, unti-unting nalugmok ang loob ko. Nang makita ko ang isang gusaling habang-buhay kong maaalala… “Treats”, nabuhayan ako ng loob. Pumasok ako sa gusaling iyon at nang aking buksan ang pinto, umagos sa buong katawan ko ang malamig na simoy ng hangin ng air-con. Umikot-ikot ako sa mga paninda, hanggang sa makarating ako sa Cold Drinks na bahagi ng tindahan. Binuksan ko ang ref, kumuha ng isang bote ng malamig na inumin at dumiretso sa tindera. Tila isang matagumpay na mandirigma, ipinatong ko ang bote sa harapan ng tindera at iniabot ang natitirang P500 na perang papel sa bulsa ko.
“Boss, sorry ho, wala kaming sukli d’yan…”
Biglang nagunaw ang mundo ko.
Series of 2005
Carmen! Carmen! Aalis na, isa nalang… Carmen! Carmen!
Gusto ko sanang isigaw, “Kulit mo a! ‘Sabing hindi ako si Carmen e!” Sarap sanang pang-inis yun, pero nung panahong yun di kasi ako naghahanap ng away. Gusto ko lang makarating ng Carmen sa lalong madaling oras.
“Ayos, meron pa sa gitna…”, bulong ko sa sarili ko nang papalapit ako sa van. “Ay leche…”, nang makita ko yung uupuan ko, di ko matanto kung paano magkakasya ang puwitan ko sa katiting na upuang iyon. Isipin mo, ano ang “kalahating upo”? Yung tipong isang pisngi mo lang ang nakaupo diba? E yung lagay ko, kalahating pisngi lang ang nakaupo. Nagpasalamat nalang ako sa Diyos at wala akong pigsa sa pwet nung araw na ‘yon, kung hindi siguradong makakapatay ako ng tao ng di oras.
Paalis na ang van nang ma-realize ko’ng nakalimutan kong bumili ng Diatabs™ bago pumunta sa terminal. Delikado pa man din ako dahil sari-sari yung kinain ko bago umalis ng bahay. “Ayos lang siguro, may stopover naman…” Buong P500 ang natitirang pera sa bulsa ko, wala na rin lang akong barya para pambili man lang sana ng tubig o kendi. Nakalampas na ang van sa ulo ng dakilang leon sa Kennon nang maalala ko… “Wala palang stopover ang mga van…patay…”
Camp 5… Camp 4… Camp 3… kay bilis ng takbo ng van. Pero sa lagay kong iyon, nagmimistulang araw ang lumilipas… parang nung Grade 2 ka at atat na atat kang naghihintay ng bell para sa recess. Paano naman, sa ‘kapat na upo ko (err… yun ata yung Filipino ng ¼… ewan), nakaipit ang kanang balikat ko sa pinto at nakasabit naman sa hawakan sa bubong yung kaliwang braso ko. At habang tumatakbo ang sasakyan, nakalimutan ata naming lahat na de-aircon ang van kaya lahat kami sa loob e parang mga nakakaawang piraso ng puto bumbong tuwing pasko.
“Rosario na. Isang oras nalang…”, consolasyon ko sa sarili ko. Pero bago pa man din kami nakalampas ng Rosario, naisip ng driver na i-on ang radio. Okey lang sana e, pero ganito yung kanta… “i-shoot mo, i-shoot mo, i-shoot mo na ang ball! i-shoot mo na ang ball… ang sarap mag-basketbol!” Sa gitna ng asar, pawis at ang pagpupumilit na hindi matawa sa ideyang napagtritripan ata ako ng tadhana, nagawa ko na lamang na pumikit ang humiling na makunsenysa naman sana yung driver at mag-stopover siya… kahit limang minuto lang.
Kahit na napakainit sa loob ng van, nagawa ko pang pagmasdan yung magkatipan sa tabi ko. Pati na yung aleng nakaupo sa dulo na kababaeng tao e nakabukaka ang binti. Eto namang dalawang magsyota ang sarap ng upo. Tulog pa, ‘kamo. Nakasandal yung babae sa balikat ng lalaki. Sa sarap siguro ng posisyong iyon e nakalimutan nyang may katabi siyang lalaking ‘kapat lang ang upo at nakasabit lang sa pinto. Sa bawat pagliko ng van sa kaliwa ay unti-unting natutulak ang baywang ko. Sa bawat pagliko naman sa kanan ay nakakabawi ako ng upo. Minsan pinapakapal ko na yung mukha ko at medyo ipipilit kong iurong ang aking namamanhid na puwitan para makabawi ng upuan. Kung nasa harapan mo ako at ikaw ang nakaupo sa likod, magmimistula akong gagong sumusubok na kumalong sa katabi kong babae. Di ko man naririnig, alam kong pinagtatawanan ako ng mga pasahero sa likod. Wala naman akong magawa kundi humiling ulit na magkaroon sana sila ng pigsa sa pwet at malagay sa sitwasyon ko sa susunod na pagsakay nila ng van.
“Pozorrubio…manong para!”, palambing na bigkas ng boypren ng katabi kong babae. Di ko masukat kung anong klaseng ligaya yung naramdaman ko. Parang yung tatlong salitang yun ang pinakamarikit na mga salitang narinig ko. Nang tumigil ang van, kusa kong binuksan ang pinto at bumaba ako para hindi sila mahirapang bumaba ng van. Sa totoo lang, kailangan ko na ring tumayo para dumaloy ulit yung dugo sa puwet ko. Pagbaba nila e pumasok na rin ako, at sa pag-upo ko, nilubos-lubos ko na ang sarap ng pag-upo at ibinukaka na rin ang mga binti ko na parang nagsasabing, “Walang binatbat ang Jacuzzi dito…”
Urdaneta… Villasis… isang tulay na lang at nasa Carmen na ako. Isang malalim na hinga ang ipinamalas ko nang umakyat ang van sa panghuling tulay, kumaripas ng takbo patawid at parang eroplanong bumababa habang patungo ito sa katapusan ng tulay.
Carmen.
Di man ako taga-Carmen, parang ito na ang pinakamagandang lugar para sa akin mula nang ako’y maupo sa poot ng sanlibutang van na iyon. Halos hindi ako makahintay na makababa ng sasakyan at makahanap ng jeep o tricycle nang makarating agad sa aking destinasyon.
“Teka, nauuhaw ata ako…”, naisip ko nang aking mahagilap ang init ng hangin sa Carmen. Naghanap ako agad ng tindahan, kahit sari-sari store man lang o kung susuwertehin, kahit 7-11 sana. Wala akong madatnan, unti-unting nalugmok ang loob ko. Nang makita ko ang isang gusaling habang-buhay kong maaalala… “Treats”, nabuhayan ako ng loob. Pumasok ako sa gusaling iyon at nang aking buksan ang pinto, umagos sa buong katawan ko ang malamig na simoy ng hangin ng air-con. Umikot-ikot ako sa mga paninda, hanggang sa makarating ako sa Cold Drinks na bahagi ng tindahan. Binuksan ko ang ref, kumuha ng isang bote ng malamig na inumin at dumiretso sa tindera. Tila isang matagumpay na mandirigma, ipinatong ko ang bote sa harapan ng tindera at iniabot ang natitirang P500 na perang papel sa bulsa ko.
“Boss, sorry ho, wala kaming sukli d’yan…”
Biglang nagunaw ang mundo ko.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
LS Reg # 003
PROCLAMATION 143
Series of 2005
(Martial Love Proclamation)
WHEREAS, Love and its arrow invaded my emotional territory;
WHEREAS, it has penetrated the deepest chamber of my heart;
WHEREAS, as a consequence thereof, my heart has been in the state of chaos, turmoil and imminent danger;
WHEREAS, the only plain, speedy and adequate remedy available in order to save the Republic of my heart is for me to immediately express my love, thoughts and sentiments, both orally and in writing, and without mental reservation or purpose of evasion;
WHEREAS, the Constitution of the Philippines and the statutory laws guarantee that every person, regardless of age, sex or creed, shall be entitled to the right of pursuit of happiness, and happiness of pursuit;
WHEREAS, these are God-given rights and although I am under the custody of Love, I shall not be unjustly deprived of my Constitutional Right to LIFE, LIBERTY and LOVE, without due process of law.
NOW, THEREFORE, I (State your name), your humble lover and admirer, for and in consideration of the foregoing premises, and by virtue of the strange powers of Love, do hereby voluntarily, intelligently and knowingly PLEAD GUILTY…GUILTY OF LOVING YOU!!!
In furtherance thereof or in connection therewith, I would like to be bound with you reclusion perpetua, or better still, cadena perpetua.
And for as long as the present state of emotional emergency continues to exist, and not withstanding any court order to the contrary, I shall never cease and desist from filing a Petition for Writ of Mandamus in order to compel you to listen to the oral arguments of my heart.
In no case shall this Proclamation be revoked and therefore, this love I have for you shall remain valid, legitimate and binding TILL DEATH DO US PART.
All other proclamations which are inconsistent with the provisions of this proclamation shall be deemed null and void ab initio.
This Martial Love Proclamation shall take effect immediately upon your receipt hereof.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my lips and cause my sweet and warm kiss be affixed.
Done in the City of Baguio, Republic of the Philippines, this 14th day of February, year 2005.
(Sgd)____________________
Series of 2005
(Martial Love Proclamation)
WHEREAS, Love and its arrow invaded my emotional territory;
WHEREAS, it has penetrated the deepest chamber of my heart;
WHEREAS, as a consequence thereof, my heart has been in the state of chaos, turmoil and imminent danger;
WHEREAS, the only plain, speedy and adequate remedy available in order to save the Republic of my heart is for me to immediately express my love, thoughts and sentiments, both orally and in writing, and without mental reservation or purpose of evasion;
WHEREAS, the Constitution of the Philippines and the statutory laws guarantee that every person, regardless of age, sex or creed, shall be entitled to the right of pursuit of happiness, and happiness of pursuit;
WHEREAS, these are God-given rights and although I am under the custody of Love, I shall not be unjustly deprived of my Constitutional Right to LIFE, LIBERTY and LOVE, without due process of law.
NOW, THEREFORE, I (State your name), your humble lover and admirer, for and in consideration of the foregoing premises, and by virtue of the strange powers of Love, do hereby voluntarily, intelligently and knowingly PLEAD GUILTY…GUILTY OF LOVING YOU!!!
In furtherance thereof or in connection therewith, I would like to be bound with you reclusion perpetua, or better still, cadena perpetua.
And for as long as the present state of emotional emergency continues to exist, and not withstanding any court order to the contrary, I shall never cease and desist from filing a Petition for Writ of Mandamus in order to compel you to listen to the oral arguments of my heart.
In no case shall this Proclamation be revoked and therefore, this love I have for you shall remain valid, legitimate and binding TILL DEATH DO US PART.
All other proclamations which are inconsistent with the provisions of this proclamation shall be deemed null and void ab initio.
This Martial Love Proclamation shall take effect immediately upon your receipt hereof.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my lips and cause my sweet and warm kiss be affixed.
Done in the City of Baguio, Republic of the Philippines, this 14th day of February, year 2005.
(Sgd)____________________
ATTESTED BY:
(Sgd)____________________
(Sgd)____________________
Copyright 2005 by Atty. Just Morales
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This Proclamation is fully protected by copyright and no part of it except, for review purposes, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, without written consent of the author.
(Sgd)____________________
(Sgd)____________________
Copyright 2005 by Atty. Just Morales
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This Proclamation is fully protected by copyright and no part of it except, for review purposes, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, without written consent of the author.
Monday, February 07, 2005
restraint
LS REG # 002
Series of 2005
The hardest thing for a guy to do is to restrain himself.
I find it hard to restrain myself.
What is the essence of restraint? Hesitance? Desistance? Fear? There are numerous possible reasons yet we always come to the same end – regret. The same regret that eats away at the very fabric of decency that keeps you human… the very same regret that throbs within the deepest recesses of your mind and crushes your heart leaving you bloodied and broken…
And still we try not to take responsibility for our actions.
Restraint.
A great man once said, “A man who doesn’t take responsibility for his words is a frail coward… a mere child who doesn’t know the value of honor.” Yet this very man is the epitaph of his own belief. He is the coward he himself despises. He is the same child he looked upon with disgust.
Restraint. Euphoria.
Euphoria is the false plane where we stand, where we feel safe… secure… untouchable. The brother of restraint, both however fail you miserably.
A few inches lie between your lips and the smooth, supple skin of the one you love. Every breath you take includes the sweet scent of her perfume and fills your soul with life. Her hair, fresh with the fragrance of a morning drizzle, slides between your fingers, drops down to your palms and caresses your arms. Her breath, as warm as an embrace, as soft as the feeling of her hands entwined with yours…tickles every inch of your body. Every sound she makes…every move… every whisper, is like the sweetest sonata you will ever hear. Her eyes, closed and wandering… her lashes fluttering like a thousand butterfly wings as a smile slowly curves in her lips…her lips… those you long to touch with your own…those you dream about every time you close your eyes in slumber. Every contact you make with her skin sends an electric surge of sensation that consumes your mind and awakens every nerve… every muscle… every part… coming alive with the life of a thousand doves flying off into the sunrise.
What do you do?
Shall you proceed?
Or restrain yourself?
I thought so…
Welcome to the world of regret.
Series of 2005
The hardest thing for a guy to do is to restrain himself.
I find it hard to restrain myself.
What is the essence of restraint? Hesitance? Desistance? Fear? There are numerous possible reasons yet we always come to the same end – regret. The same regret that eats away at the very fabric of decency that keeps you human… the very same regret that throbs within the deepest recesses of your mind and crushes your heart leaving you bloodied and broken…
And still we try not to take responsibility for our actions.
Restraint.
A great man once said, “A man who doesn’t take responsibility for his words is a frail coward… a mere child who doesn’t know the value of honor.” Yet this very man is the epitaph of his own belief. He is the coward he himself despises. He is the same child he looked upon with disgust.
Restraint. Euphoria.
Euphoria is the false plane where we stand, where we feel safe… secure… untouchable. The brother of restraint, both however fail you miserably.
A few inches lie between your lips and the smooth, supple skin of the one you love. Every breath you take includes the sweet scent of her perfume and fills your soul with life. Her hair, fresh with the fragrance of a morning drizzle, slides between your fingers, drops down to your palms and caresses your arms. Her breath, as warm as an embrace, as soft as the feeling of her hands entwined with yours…tickles every inch of your body. Every sound she makes…every move… every whisper, is like the sweetest sonata you will ever hear. Her eyes, closed and wandering… her lashes fluttering like a thousand butterfly wings as a smile slowly curves in her lips…her lips… those you long to touch with your own…those you dream about every time you close your eyes in slumber. Every contact you make with her skin sends an electric surge of sensation that consumes your mind and awakens every nerve… every muscle… every part… coming alive with the life of a thousand doves flying off into the sunrise.
What do you do?
Shall you proceed?
Or restrain yourself?
I thought so…
Welcome to the world of regret.
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Saturday, January 15, 2005
TV
LS Reg. # 001
Series of 2004
Topic: TV
The reason why Pinoys love TV so much is that they get to live a different life in the tube. How?
Reality.
We escape reality when watching the tube. We live the ideal life in front of the TV. (I still wonder why it’s called the “Boob Tube”. We don’t get to see a lot of boobs on TV nowadays, do we?)
Go watch a soppy love story and you spend the whole day thinking about that ideal “story” and the possibilities of you living one. You start to look for the ideal, the perfect and the memorable one. You eventually get dissatisfied with what you have and you begin wishing for something more like what you saw “on TV”. (Sassy Girl… I began thinking of the possibilities of a subway station being built up here in Baguio.)
Watch those teenaged melodramas during the weekends. Now, where in the decent world would you see a 15 year-old driving a 2003 Honda Civic VTI with Brembo pads, Momo racing steerers, Alpine sound systems, chrome-coated Neuspeed rims, a set of Sparco bucket seats and full body kits to school? (That would probably cost at least P1.5M. What parent in their right mind would give their 15 year old a set of wheels like that? In Manila? In this society? ) A taxi driver wearing a Ralph Lauren jacket, a Girbaud lazy cap and Rudy Project sunglasses? Where would you see parents giving their kid a week-long vacation in Hong Kong with his friends for his birthday? (And yes, his love interest gets to come, but with a catch. The rival gets to come, too. Watched that episode? Yeah, I did.) Where would you see a girl prancing around Katipunan holding out her Sony Ericsson P900 for everyone to see? (Frankly, that’s an open invitation.) The average life looks so extravagant on TV. Also, the rural life looks too… well… cliché as well. A vacation in their “probinsyanong” buddy’s province, and they end up in a poorly cooked up concept of a rural village set up in Tam-awan Village. C’mon.
Eating sidewalk isaw? Take it from me, sidewalk isaw isn’t colored BROWN when cooked. It’s dark RED with a hint of burnt brown and a bit of light pink where the raw flesh still remains. And please, isaw vendors do NOT use white cane vinegar with bits of “finely” chopped onions and garlic and pepper floating around. Why? Flavor, my friend. White vinegar is SOUR. Red vinegar (or some call it brown vinegar, or whatever) is sour, pungent and spicy. That’s why it’s the ideal broiling seasoning. Furthermore, they don’t use the lower half of a 1Liter mineral water PET bottle to put their vinegar in. And only one seasoning? Please. That’s TV for you. No realism at all. Pero balik tayo sa topic.
Models. Yeah, young, beautiful, well-built teens on TV. Again, another fantasy for us Pinoys. “I want a girl who looks like this hot chick I saw on TV… or at least dresses like her”… “I’m looking for a guy who has the same features as this guy on TV”. You see a Pinoy-Australian mestiza wearing tiny shorts and spaghettis driving her trusty “worn out” bicycle around the subdivision… and claims to be the daughter of a plumber? She’s got nice, slim, long legs, a great body, fine features, lovely lips, long, straight hair and perfect teeth… and she’s a plumber’s daughter? Get the drift?
Look at bar scenes. Why do they always drink Carlos I, Johnnie Walker or Jose Cuervo when they drink? Why don’t they have Kulafu, Beer na Beer or the all time favorite Empoy? Even in chocolate scenes… why don’t you see the local Cloud 9, Big Bang or the equally satisfying ChocNut?
Everything has to be extravagant on TV. You won’t see a pair of worn out Islander sandals on the beach.
Yes, extravagant. Living in the present Philippines has given us the desire to live the good life. Let’s face it, TV has a brainwashing effect. It instills in us the “ideal”, dictated by those media personalities and those bureaucrats who make money out of the feeblemindedness of some Pinoys.
There is a good life out there. But not on TV.
O kaya bitter lang ako dahil sa lecheng TV na yan kasi di ako nakapag review ng maayos kahapon para sa exam ko. P500 pa ang cable every month, leche talaga oo….
Series of 2004
Topic: TV
The reason why Pinoys love TV so much is that they get to live a different life in the tube. How?
Reality.
We escape reality when watching the tube. We live the ideal life in front of the TV. (I still wonder why it’s called the “Boob Tube”. We don’t get to see a lot of boobs on TV nowadays, do we?)
Go watch a soppy love story and you spend the whole day thinking about that ideal “story” and the possibilities of you living one. You start to look for the ideal, the perfect and the memorable one. You eventually get dissatisfied with what you have and you begin wishing for something more like what you saw “on TV”. (Sassy Girl… I began thinking of the possibilities of a subway station being built up here in Baguio.)
Watch those teenaged melodramas during the weekends. Now, where in the decent world would you see a 15 year-old driving a 2003 Honda Civic VTI with Brembo pads, Momo racing steerers, Alpine sound systems, chrome-coated Neuspeed rims, a set of Sparco bucket seats and full body kits to school? (That would probably cost at least P1.5M. What parent in their right mind would give their 15 year old a set of wheels like that? In Manila? In this society? ) A taxi driver wearing a Ralph Lauren jacket, a Girbaud lazy cap and Rudy Project sunglasses? Where would you see parents giving their kid a week-long vacation in Hong Kong with his friends for his birthday? (And yes, his love interest gets to come, but with a catch. The rival gets to come, too. Watched that episode? Yeah, I did.) Where would you see a girl prancing around Katipunan holding out her Sony Ericsson P900 for everyone to see? (Frankly, that’s an open invitation.) The average life looks so extravagant on TV. Also, the rural life looks too… well… cliché as well. A vacation in their “probinsyanong” buddy’s province, and they end up in a poorly cooked up concept of a rural village set up in Tam-awan Village. C’mon.
Eating sidewalk isaw? Take it from me, sidewalk isaw isn’t colored BROWN when cooked. It’s dark RED with a hint of burnt brown and a bit of light pink where the raw flesh still remains. And please, isaw vendors do NOT use white cane vinegar with bits of “finely” chopped onions and garlic and pepper floating around. Why? Flavor, my friend. White vinegar is SOUR. Red vinegar (or some call it brown vinegar, or whatever) is sour, pungent and spicy. That’s why it’s the ideal broiling seasoning. Furthermore, they don’t use the lower half of a 1Liter mineral water PET bottle to put their vinegar in. And only one seasoning? Please. That’s TV for you. No realism at all. Pero balik tayo sa topic.
Models. Yeah, young, beautiful, well-built teens on TV. Again, another fantasy for us Pinoys. “I want a girl who looks like this hot chick I saw on TV… or at least dresses like her”… “I’m looking for a guy who has the same features as this guy on TV”. You see a Pinoy-Australian mestiza wearing tiny shorts and spaghettis driving her trusty “worn out” bicycle around the subdivision… and claims to be the daughter of a plumber? She’s got nice, slim, long legs, a great body, fine features, lovely lips, long, straight hair and perfect teeth… and she’s a plumber’s daughter? Get the drift?
Look at bar scenes. Why do they always drink Carlos I, Johnnie Walker or Jose Cuervo when they drink? Why don’t they have Kulafu, Beer na Beer or the all time favorite Empoy? Even in chocolate scenes… why don’t you see the local Cloud 9, Big Bang or the equally satisfying ChocNut?
Everything has to be extravagant on TV. You won’t see a pair of worn out Islander sandals on the beach.
Yes, extravagant. Living in the present Philippines has given us the desire to live the good life. Let’s face it, TV has a brainwashing effect. It instills in us the “ideal”, dictated by those media personalities and those bureaucrats who make money out of the feeblemindedness of some Pinoys.
There is a good life out there. But not on TV.
O kaya bitter lang ako dahil sa lecheng TV na yan kasi di ako nakapag review ng maayos kahapon para sa exam ko. P500 pa ang cable every month, leche talaga oo….
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
My Sassy Girl Review
im having fever, a runny nose, a really bad cough, chest pains and joint aches. still, i laughed, i cried. how's that?
serendipity...yer out...
serendipity...yer out...
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