Gusto kong maging manunulat. Humabi ng tula o kwento. Makipag-niig sa mga salita.
Pero sa ngayon, nakakalungkot mang isipin, at mas nakakalungkot aminin
hindi ako marunong magsulat.
Wala akong 'touch' pagdating sa pagsusulat tulad na lamang na wala akong 'touch' sa pagkanta, pagsayaw, pag-arte etc.
Wala na akong buhay.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
bwakanangsyet na malas
yumaman na naman ang mundo by 500 pesos dahil sakeng katangahan.
as of now, 2k pesos na ang nakocontribute ko sa kaban ng pilipinas.
how i wish na sa laki ng perang nawawala ko, may tiyan akong naitatawid sa gutom.
as of now, 2k pesos na ang nakocontribute ko sa kaban ng pilipinas.
how i wish na sa laki ng perang nawawala ko, may tiyan akong naitatawid sa gutom.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Lagalag.
Ang tanga lang na marami akong blog pero kahit kelan ay hindi ako naging faithful sa kanilang lahat. Kaya gusto ko maging committed eh, para kahit pano may isa man lang sa dinami-dami nila na makasama ko panghabang panahon.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Mama mama
I grew up not knowing much about my mother. I know absolutely nothing about my mother except that she cooks well and she’s very strict.
I grope for words to describe her every time I get interviewed by guidance counselors. I always struggle when asked to describe how my relationship is with her. Often times, I find myself telling the counselor, “ok lang po”, even though I knew it wasn’t the whole truth. I was afraid of telling them that I feared my mother so much. They’d ask why for sure and I don’t want to go through the hassle and struggle of finding answers. Moreover, I was afraid that they’d call her and talk to her personally about it. I don’t want them to think that my family is dysfunctional just because we didn’t have ideal relationships in the family. Telling them that everything was ok seemed best to me during those times. Ask me now how my relationship with her has grown through the years, and I wouldn’t know what to answer for nothing has changed. I still know very little about her, and still fear her. Perhaps I can say that what has grown over time is the fear.
Most people who knew my mother in her youth would often tell me that I look like her. When I look at myself in the mirror, and sees a picture of my mother in her teens, I’d shake my head in disagreement. I do not look like her. I do not see myself when I look at her in her old pictures. If given the chance and choice, when I become a mother myself in the near future, I would not want to be like her. I wouldn’t want to be as strict as she is. I wouldn’t want to it my children, and say things that could scar them emotionally. Funny that as I contemplate on this matter, Ruffa Gutierrez’ and Annabelle Rama’s movie ‘Monster Mom’ crossed my mind. No, I don’t consider something of that sort even if what we’ve been through with her is not very ideal. After all, she is still our mother.
When I think of my mother, I’ll always remember two images that struck me most. Both picture of her lets me see her in a different light. I see her in images that are very out of her character. Recently, during dinner, she got angry at us for not helping around the house. Perhaps the anger and problems that had piled up had been too much for my mother to bear any longer. She broke down into tears. I’ve never seen my mother cry that way. I always think of her as a tough woman, strong-willed, and fearsome. Her tears were something I did not expect at that moment. Tears and litany of distress came rushing forth. I felt guilty. I knew myself well enough to know that the guilt I was feeling will make tears flow soon. But I had to restrain myself. Ayokong luha ang pagsaluhan namin sa hapag-kainan.
A few years ago, just when I started having my period, my mother got angry at me because I got out of the bathroom still undressed, with only a towel wrapped around my body. She reprimanded me, telling me how I was growing up and how my body was changing. I can’t remember if she had hit me that night. All I remember was when she hugged me and said sorry while I pretended to be asleep after crying. While stroking my hair, she told me that she only wanted me to learn how to take care of myself especially that I was growing up already.
* These has been the most painful words I’ve ever written yet. And heart-wrenching at the same time.
**draft pa lang po ito. naging emotional lang ako ng sobra kaya biglaan ang pagkakasulat. pasensiya.
I grope for words to describe her every time I get interviewed by guidance counselors. I always struggle when asked to describe how my relationship is with her. Often times, I find myself telling the counselor, “ok lang po”, even though I knew it wasn’t the whole truth. I was afraid of telling them that I feared my mother so much. They’d ask why for sure and I don’t want to go through the hassle and struggle of finding answers. Moreover, I was afraid that they’d call her and talk to her personally about it. I don’t want them to think that my family is dysfunctional just because we didn’t have ideal relationships in the family. Telling them that everything was ok seemed best to me during those times. Ask me now how my relationship with her has grown through the years, and I wouldn’t know what to answer for nothing has changed. I still know very little about her, and still fear her. Perhaps I can say that what has grown over time is the fear.
Most people who knew my mother in her youth would often tell me that I look like her. When I look at myself in the mirror, and sees a picture of my mother in her teens, I’d shake my head in disagreement. I do not look like her. I do not see myself when I look at her in her old pictures. If given the chance and choice, when I become a mother myself in the near future, I would not want to be like her. I wouldn’t want to be as strict as she is. I wouldn’t want to it my children, and say things that could scar them emotionally. Funny that as I contemplate on this matter, Ruffa Gutierrez’ and Annabelle Rama’s movie ‘Monster Mom’ crossed my mind. No, I don’t consider something of that sort even if what we’ve been through with her is not very ideal. After all, she is still our mother.
When I think of my mother, I’ll always remember two images that struck me most. Both picture of her lets me see her in a different light. I see her in images that are very out of her character. Recently, during dinner, she got angry at us for not helping around the house. Perhaps the anger and problems that had piled up had been too much for my mother to bear any longer. She broke down into tears. I’ve never seen my mother cry that way. I always think of her as a tough woman, strong-willed, and fearsome. Her tears were something I did not expect at that moment. Tears and litany of distress came rushing forth. I felt guilty. I knew myself well enough to know that the guilt I was feeling will make tears flow soon. But I had to restrain myself. Ayokong luha ang pagsaluhan namin sa hapag-kainan.
A few years ago, just when I started having my period, my mother got angry at me because I got out of the bathroom still undressed, with only a towel wrapped around my body. She reprimanded me, telling me how I was growing up and how my body was changing. I can’t remember if she had hit me that night. All I remember was when she hugged me and said sorry while I pretended to be asleep after crying. While stroking my hair, she told me that she only wanted me to learn how to take care of myself especially that I was growing up already.
* These has been the most painful words I’ve ever written yet. And heart-wrenching at the same time.
**draft pa lang po ito. naging emotional lang ako ng sobra kaya biglaan ang pagkakasulat. pasensiya.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
HULA HULA
Globe subscriber ka ba? Punta ka sa write messages, tapos type mo HULA(space)(your birthday) and send to 2346. example: HULA 120781 (kung ang birthday mo ay december 7, 1981)
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! :)
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED! :)
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