Patchwork of Joy

One fine Sunday afternoon sometime in 2008, I was then a college student, we held a church community gathering in a chapel in my university. Connected to the chapel was the student building that has a comfort room. While taking the stairs, I saw a big bulletin posted with the poem “Desiderata”. The poet was written as anonymous. The poem was not unfamiliar to me as I once read it when I was in high school. It was also posted on our school press room bulletin board. I was more intrigued when I saw it there. I read it aloud without hurry like during high school. It has then stuck into my heart. Whenever I feel sad, I would remember and repeat reading this poem. It’s a feel-good poem for me. A day in MOA Seaside (Desiderata  is Latin word which means ' things that are yearned for ') Desiderata,   Max Ehrmann   Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all perso...

We own the Island!!! Huh? Just kidding, we don't really own this island. =) I just feel like shouting that I own the island to hear my echoing voice, this isn't even in an island. This is a beach, estimated 45 minutes away from the busy streets of Legazpi. No one is around the beach area yet the day was really beautiful. The sea water is so clear. Before I was born, this is where my parents used to live.  It's always fun to rediscover your own place.

Hindi ko alam kung gaano kahusay na magpuputo si Ina. Sa lasa ko, ang kanyang lutong mga kakanin, na bihira kong tikman, ay wala namang katangi-tanging sarap. Ngunit maaaring dahil ako'y sawa na. Nawawalan ng lasa ang pinakamasarap mang pagkain kapag araw-araw ay nakahain iyon sa iyo."   ~Ang Gilingang Bato, Edgardo M. Reyes ( I don't know how great is my mother at making  puto . In my taste, the  kakanin  she cooked, which I often eat, has nothing particularly appetizing at all. Maybe, I have gotten used to its taste. After all, even the most delicious food, if served daily, can lose its wonder.) My 2 cents: It's been a long time ago since I read a Filipino classic story. While I boringly watched TV, then sitting near our bookshelves, I picked and browsed a Filipino high school book, then randomly I flipped on the short story "Ang Gilingang Bato". I wondered if I had read this story before. I usually read all stories in that book, randomly at le...

I am not angry. But, I was very before. I have kept it in me, maybe up until now. As much as I want to talk to that person how much angry I felt it in the past, I just kept it in me. It is still hidden in here. It's still a make-believe to say that I have forgotten of that time. Yet, I am still not telling it more than this. Maybe, one day it will just broke down. But, I couldn't and wouldn't talk to that friend anymore so it doesn't matter anyway. Maybe, I was never a friend to that person. But if one day, that person calls me a friend, it's nothing but a friendship in a poison tree.

Childhood Memories: Kudut-kudutan When my mom's home barangay fiesta comes, this song is played in the kurudalan which I perfectly don't attend. Played a few kilometers away from the barangay proper to my brother's house, it can be heard a loud even by the mountains around the place. It was nostalgic, a time being a child. The calm moments of a child. The memory of trustful friends. When I heard this, I felt a deep longing for good old friends. Kan ako sadit pa Sadit ka pa man  Nagkarawat kita nin  Kudot- kudotan   Kinudot mo ako  Kinudot taka man  Ang simbag mo sako Luway-luwaya man  Haen ka na baya Kakawat kong madaya Ang kudot-kudotan Sakuyang girumdum Haen ka na baya Kakawat kong madaya Ang kudot-kudotan Hinahanap ko ngonian. Unofficial Tagalog Version: Nung ako'y maliit pa Maliit ka rin Naglaro tayo ng Kurut-kurutan Kinurot mo ako Kinurot din kita Ang sagot mo sakin Hinay-hinayin lang Nasaan ka na ba? Kalaro kong madaya Ang kur...

Happy people are all alike; every unhappy person is unhappy in its own way. My mood today is neutral. Nothing depresses me, nothing stimulates my brain either. Boredom wouldn't kill me yet. I was busy doing this and that stuff( yeah blogging ). Although some dark feeling is starting to grow in me( hormonal probably ) but I couldn't think of anything to write today. So, I was reading my record journal of last year and the year before which is handwritten in pen/pencil. I don't have usual access to social network in those years so I usually write them down, sometimes doodles it or sometimes write it in a way like a status post in Facebook. I have this thought-question posted in my journal-diary: Why do I write sad thoughts? I just felt like words are overflowing when I am sad, when I am depressed. It amazes me that I also feel like I was a better writer when I am totally down. When I read the short story The Horla , and followed through narrator recording events in h...

Go. (this is really the title.) A little while ago, I was just a kid. I wish to grow up already so I can fulfill my dreams. (me.today-->i used to have dreams, huh). I was a girl who hopes to rule my world, the power to change it and be independent with my life. (mighty power!) Children by nature are inferior. (Just recently, I've learned  Alfred Adler said this. ) Now, I am to choose which way in this diverge roads I am to follow. I have in my hand the BUCET form. On the 14th of September, it has to be filled up and passed on to the registrar. But I stopped here, to utter-- "I'm in chaos." We have attended the career guidance yet I am not satisfied with what they imparted. I am still caught in confusion. I am getting anxious, learning that if I failed to follow the right way, I'll regret this so much. College is not high school. Being there is not any mile near from here. I do need adjustments, sacrifices, and others. But, I have to go on, no mor...