Paalam, Kaibigan

Matagal-tagal ko na ring pinag-isipan
ito. Matagal nga tayong magkakilala,
matagal na rin na tayo'y magkasama. Mga
alaalang masasaya na kailang man hindi
malilimutan. Tayo'y nagtapos ng
sekondariang edukasyon at nangakong
hindi magwawatak. Pasensya na kaibigan
hindi ko matutupad ang pangakong ito.
Masyado ka nang naging mataas. Naaalala
ko pa noong iniiwan mo ako para sa mga
"bago" mong kaibigan. 'Wag ka ng
magkaila. Alam ko na iba ang tingin mo
sa akin. Lagi mo lang akong sinasamahan
tuwing hindi mo sila gusto. Karamihan
naman sa nakilala ko ganon.
Paminsan-minsan ay gusto mo ring
mapalapit sa akin ngunit hindi mo magawa
iyon. Alam mong hindi ako ganoong
palausap. Pero kahit ganoon ang
pinapakita ko sa iyo, alam mo namang
higit pa sa kaibigan ang turi ko sayo.
Para na kitang kapatid.

Ngunit sa mga panahong ito, ikaw'y
nagbago. Nagkaroon ka ng mas maraming
kaibigan. Unti-unting lumayo tayo sa
isa't isa. Mahirap mag-aral sa isang
unibersidad na itinuturing pinakamaganda
sa ating bansa. Ang daming dapat gawin.
Sa isang kisap-mata, hindi na ako
nakakatanggap ng mga text sa iyo.
Nagpapadala ka na lng ng mensahe tuwing
kailangan mo ako. Hindi kita masisisi
sa pagkat kahit ako'y hindi na rin
masyadong nagpapadala ng mensahe tuwing
kailangan mo ako.

Hindi alintana sa akin na marami ka
ring problema. Na ayaw mo itong ipakita
sa amin. Sadyang nasaktan ako doon.
Gusto mo bang ipahiwatig na plastikan
lang ang pakikitungo namin sa iyo o
masyado mong iniingatan ang imahe mo
noong nasa hayskul pa tayo?

Masakit mang isipin na magiging ganito
ang estado ng ating pagkakaibigan.
Ayoko nang umasa pa na babalik ang dati
mong pagkatao. Hindi na ako sasama sa
landas na gusto mong tahakin. Sanay na
naman ako na maghanap ng bagong landas
kahit gaano pa man ito kahirap.
Hanggang dito na lamang, kaibigan.
Hanggang sa muling pagkikita. Paalam.

WooHoo!

After the long wait I've finally done it! With some help from a software, of course!

I'm proud to present to you, the photo mosaic of Mga Diwata ng Sining in a photo mosaic using photos of my High school class mates and friends! Enjoy

will to continue

In this last semester I've been thinking on whether to continue pursuing my present college course (which is BA Communication Research in Mass Comm) of to find another one that I would like. I'm not against the comm res people there. I mean they are really good and their salary can be quite competitive especially the sidelines. It made matters worse when I took this two subjects which I like most -- the SocSci 3 (exploring gender and sexuality) and Philo 10 (approaches to philosophy).

SocSci 3 became one of the subjects I do like to take as a GE since it gives me knowledge as well as entertains me really well. The subject matter tackles about what is gender and sexuality, the differences between them, the cultural aspects of it, etc. (If someone tells me that I like it because I have a high grade from that subject, your wrong. Even before taking the subject, I already liked the idea of "dissecting" of sexuality and gender.

Philo 10, on the other hand, gives us insight of different philosophical approaches to life. As Prof. Rubicon Soberano tells us that there are in fact three main approaches (religious, scientific, and ideological) to philosophy. Each one is clearly distinctive of each other yet it seems to be in "jive" with each other.

With my freshman year coming past through me, I have to think about my own future. Yet this future is still unknown to me, as my past is. But it helps me wonder, what is my past really is, what am I doing now (other than writing my blog of course) and what will happen to me some time after now? It would deem as unwise to jump to an early conclusion. So I'll just continue to post my thoughts 'til the very end.

Life As We Know It

Damn! It's been like while since I watched that show. If i cabn still remeber the synopsis right, it is about 3 friends in their high school days. It deals with the "problem" of an average teen age high school male student (I think you already know what I meant).

It also took me for quite sometime to continue my blog. Will see you on next posting

An overrepressed thought

Since our own student publication newspaper has beed temporaryly removed from the presses, it made me think what will happen to all their ideals. No wait, they also hold many ideas from our very own thought making machine. Can there be no other way to spread the truths among us? With all those ruckus going on to reissue the funds of The Collegian what will be our output of thoughts. Can we just shout and say Ibalik ang kule! I think that would be one of the repetitive idea being used even as we speak. No offense to the collegian staff, but speaking loudly of your idea to the whole up campus WILL never be a good answer for the repressive "Administration." Boycouts? Can freshies (like me) even have the guts to stand in front of the class and say the magic words? I think it will never happen for Most, i repeat most, of us. But even some of the brave souls who dare defy the norms being spoon-feed to us by our peers has a high risk of contracting a highly deadly disease called humiliation. It is so lethal, just a mere word of it can actually kill you. (If you are not immune enough)

Any other options you may ask? Personally, I think we no longer have other choice than to continue the publication until the administration releases the funds being paid by us, the students and loyal fans of this student body publication. Nobody can ever stop the flowing water for it will just find another way to continue its path. And so can you.

I do admire the people who sponsor the publication so ti may continue. Hopefully, i can help to. But I am still weak to do that. I'll just pray to the Father Almighty to pump the "conscience hormone." Till then, Good Luck on your next Issue.

A chinese poem by Pa sheng kan chou

Pa sheng kan chou

Spattering evening rains sprinkles river and sky
Washes clear autumn
Soon frost with icy winds will close in
On the desolate mountain pass, the deserted river ...
Last rays of sun glance off the tower
Everywhere red fades, green disappears
By turn, what flourished, ends
Only the waters of Yanftze flow on
Wordlessly, east

I can not bear to climb the high tower, look out
Gaze longingly toward home -- dim and distant
But to stop my thoughts from going back is hard
I wonder at my path in recent years --
Why have I lingered, miserable
Aware that in her room she has looked up --
How many times --
and thought she saw my boat on the horizon?
And never known that I lean here
Congealed with sorrow?

A poem by Edgar Allan Poe

ANNABELLE LEE

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

The poem by Edgar Allan Poe (My fave poet)

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!