AngelSpring's Haven

More Pork Everyone!

2011-02-23T20:28:00.000-08:00

"Too much pork is not good for one's health, but lawmakers don't seem to mind," was Gil Cabacungan Jr.'s opening statement on his article on the Philippine Daily Inquirer entitled Solons vote to award selves with more pork.

Out of 199 House members present at Tuesday's plenary session, only 4 voted to turn down what Bayan Muna Rep. Teddy Casino calls as an additional pork barrel for lawmakers. Only four (4!!!) lawmakers knew that too much pork is bad for the health.

The additional amount would be taken from the multibillion-peso road user's tax, which would give them control of between P20 million and P30 million in funds for their pet public work projects. Moreover, these representatives get P70 million each year in priority development assistance fund (PDAF) allocation.

The House Bill No. 4069 authored by Quezon Rep. Danilo Suarez transfers the disbursement of funds collected from the Motor Vehicle User's Charge (MVUC) Law (otherwise known as the road user's tax) from the Road Board composed of Presidential appointees to the legislators.

Cabacungan Jr. writes, "Suarez said this should not be considered pork barrel as the money would not come from congressional funds. He said the money would stay with the Department of Public Works and Highways and the lawmakers would just designate which projects should receive funding from their respective allocations."

According to Suarez this should address complaints that not all congressional districts were getting their fair share of the road user's tax.

But here is what Casino said in regards to his vote: "We all know that this road user's tax is fraught with anomalies. A lot of exposes and Senate investigations have proven this. We really need to reform the allocation of this fund which involves billions of pesos. But this conversion of the MVUC funds into something like the PDAF, or pork barrel, is not the solution to the problem."

He further explained that it is like transferring water from a pail with a big hole to another pail but with smaller holes of which the effect is that the leakages and opportunities for anomalies will not be plugged.

I guess this is another great milestone for the legislators in their vows to serve the Filipino people. All legislators get more pork, our only hope is that it trickles down to the people because, let me reiterate what Cabacungan Jr. said, "Too much pork is not good for one's health."

I want to be in love.

2010-08-15T18:45:00.000-07:00

I feel so lonely and empty and sad…so I watch love stories, even those with sad endings. And in those two hours when I’m watching those movies, I am transported into a place where I could almost taste what it feels like to be in love.

I just want to love and to be loved back in return. I want a partner whom I could give my whole heart entirely. I want to love with a love that is like fire—I want the kind of love that hits like lightning. I want to make love with a fierce passion that numbs my mind. I want to cuddle at night and share stories and laughter. I want a kind of love that makes me feel at home and peaceful and contented while at the same time happy and joyful and thankful and full of life and adventure.

I want a love that is strong and wild but slow and easy—a love that is heart and soul, completely! I want to share passion and tenderness. I want a love that is full of trust and honesty, full of understanding and caring.

I just want love, love, love, love!!! I want to love so much!!! I want to show tenderness, I want to care, I want to trust, I want to pamper, I want to cuddle, I want to make love; I just want to love with all my heart, with all my mind, with all my soul, and with all my strength!!!

I want to kiss with wild passion, with sweet tenderness, with love. I want to look at that person in the eye and see my soul in his eyes while his soul reflects in mine. I want to share my life, my thoughts, my dreams, my aspirations, my hopes, my emotions, and my passions.

I want to dance in the rain, I want to play in the field, I want to jump off a cliff, I want to climb a mountain, I want to dive in a waterfall, I want to ride a horse, I want to run barefoot in the sand, I want to count the stars, I want to dine on a hilltop, I want to go on a joyride, I want to fish in the sea, I want to sleep on the grasses beneath the stars, I want to go to art galleries, I want to watch plays and concerts and poetry readings—I just want to live and do all these things with someone I love.

I want to grow old with a person I am in love with—I want to be sitting beside him on a rocking chair in the front porch as we hold hands, listen to soft music, and talk about all our adventures, laugh, and just watch people pass by as they go off to their own adventures.

I have so much romantic love to give but no one to give it to. There seems to be no one worth giving it to because I can only give it to a person I can trust—entirely and completely, in big things as well as in small things.

They say falling in love is like giving your heart to another person and letting him point a gun at it and hoping that he would never pull the trigger. I only have one heart; I could not give it to a person who will only pull the trigger.

I want to trust. I want to love. I want to love, love, love, love, love. I want to be in love…so I watch love stories and in that two hours while I’m watching the movie, I almost feel like I’m really in love. I guess I would just have to be contented with falling in love with the guys in the movies because maybe those kinds of guys and that kind of love could only be found in movies, never in real life.

But if someone would just let me, I could give that someone a kind of love that is like that of the movies.

I want to be in love.

But maybe I would never know how it is to be in love.

I am just a romantic fool—so I’ll just have to watch love stories until I grow old.

Never Too Late

2010-08-03T05:55:00.001-07:00

It is never too late to be what you might have been!

Color of Happiness: Rainbow

2010-04-13T21:18:00.000-07:00

Baby Attack!!!

2009-11-07T06:47:00.001-08:00

I'm Feeling This Song

2009-10-03T07:35:00.000-07:00

I HATE THIS PART
By: Pussycat Dolls

We're driving slow through the snow on 5th Avenue
And right now radio's all that we can hear
Now we ain't talked since we left, it's so overdue
It's cold outside but between us it's worse in here

The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts

I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through my fingers

I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you

I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here

Every day, seven takes of the same old scene
Seems we're bound by the laws of the same routine
Gotta talk to you now 'fore we go to sleep
But will we sleep once I tell you what's hurting me?

The world slows down
But my heart beats fast right now
I know this is the part
Where the end starts

I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers

I don't wanna try now
All that's left's goodbye to
Find a way that I can tell you

I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here

I know you'll ask me to hold on
And carry on like nothing's wrong
But there is no more time for lies
'Cause I see sunset in your eyes

I can't take it any longer
Thought that we were stronger
All we do is linger
Slipping through our fingers

I don't wanna try now
All that's left's GOODBYE to
Find a way that I can tell you

That I gotta do it
I gotta do it
I gotta do it

I hate this part
I gotta do it
I gotta do it
I gotta do it, oh

I hate this part right here
I hate this part right here
I just can't take these tears
I hate this part right here

Everything Goes In

2009-09-16T05:56:00.001-07:00

And there it goes. My hand went it, then my wrist, then my shoulder. Now, his hand went in, his finger, then his thumb, then his wrist. Everything went into his mouth.
Next went the chicken. The multi-colored chicken went in, head first then wings, then tail.
Next that went in was the tiger, a black and orange striped tiger. The tiger went in claws, fangs, and all.
Then the red masked man went in. He was holding a sword and shield but all went in.
Tweety Bird went in too. Sylvester could not catch him, but he went in.
After him, Spiderman went in. Spiderman in full costume could do naught but go in.
Next went Doramon. The little blue alien went in. Not even his extraterrestrial powers could save him.

Well, what would you expect from a 3-months-and-3-weeks-old baby? Of course everything that goes into contact with his mouth, goes in.

beautiful things

2009-09-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

i love beautiful things
i love the rain
i love a hot coffee when it rains
i love the stars
i love the moon amidst the stars
i love the night
i love the middle of the night
i love the grasses
i love the grasshoppers on the grasses
i love the twilight
i love the dawning of the light
i love the sea
i love to go skinny dipping in the sea
i love music
i love everything that goes with music
i love landscapes
i love paintings that depict landscapes
i love the wind
i love it on my face, the feel of the wind
i love dreams
i love to stare at nothing and dream
i love the written word
i love the book, the paper,and the pen
i love love...it is supposed to be beautiful
supposed to be...

Tattoo

2009-09-10T09:22:00.001-07:00

It was September 7, 2009 or 9-7-9 or our 29th monthsary. The Goo Goo Dolls told me that I had to bleed to know I’m alive. So to commemorate that day, I decided to feel all the pain my relationship brought me. I got a tattoo.
I had my doubts but I was already sitting on the chair and the tattoo artist—Ming-ming’s hand holding the gun was already only an inch away from my skin. I wanted to say, “Wait!” but the needle touched skin and it was too late. It was either finish it or finish it. There was no choice; the only other option was to go around with an unfinished tattoo, which was no choice at all (of course).
So I let the pain run its course. Well, anyone who went through childbirth would definitely survive it. There was no competition, not even close. But pain is pain and I wanted to feel.
I sat there unmoving, letting the needle run through my skin over and over again; the black ink mixing with my blood. I had to concentrate really hard to recall why I decided to do this to myself. At times I really feel stupid. Everything that has happened is due to the choices I made, so there is no one to blame but me, myself, and I. "When will I ever learn?" is a good question that I have to tattoo in my mind.
After an hour, it was done. I got marked. Like my Cebuano ancestors before me, I too am now a pintados. (Good thing my blood type is O plus; I don’t have to worry about blood donation and such.)
I’m hoping that every time I’ll see this mark on me, I’ll remember that the choices I’ll make could either bring joy or pain. Think twice or a million times over before deciding. But then, maybe I made a wrong move again! How could this mark remind me when it’s at my back? I’d had to look at a mirror to see it. Tsktsktsk!Spring, get a grip! Lest people will see you walking around with your head full of tattoos!

Found Yah! Rosas ng Digma at Ang Tugon

2009-09-09T08:49:00.000-07:00

Rosas ng Digma

Sumibol sa isang panahong marahas
Bawat pagsubok ay iyong hinarap
At hangga’t laya’y di pa nakakamtan
Buhay mo’y laging laan
Namumukadkad at puno ng sigla
Tulad mo’y rosas sa hardin ng digma
At di maiwasang sa’yo ay humanga
Ang tulad kong mandirigma

(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta

Ang kulay mong angkin, sintingkad ng dugo
Nagbibigay-buhay sa bawat puso
Tinik mo’y sagisag ng tapang at giting
Sa langara’y kislap ng bituin

(Repeat refrain twice)

Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta

Ang Tugon

Ika’y paru-parong nangahas lumipad
Sa dilim ng gabi pilit na umalpas
Pagkat hanap mo’y ningning at laya ng bukas
Sa aking mundo’y napadpad
Katulad ng iba ay nagmamahal din
Kahit malayo ay liliparin
Upang pag-ibig mo’y iparating
Sa rosas ng iyong paningin

(Refrain)
Ako’y nangangarap na ika’y makasama
Taglay ang pangakong iingatan kita
Ang ganda mong nahubog sa piling ng masa
Hinding hindi kukupas, di malalanta

(Repeat refrain)

Gaya ng pag-ibig na alay ko sinta

Emote-ING

2009-09-04T08:24:00.000-07:00

The sands of the hourglass keeps falling
The clock keeps ticking
Time keeps running
I stare at it not seeing
Just watching
But not really seeing
The shades that are black and white, monotonous, boring
Inside concrete walls sitting
And sitting
Waiting for nothing
Doing the motions again and again constantly repeating
Now lying
Looking at the ceiling
Still it’s black and white, unmoving
Sleeping
The colors burst forth, hear voices laughing
See lips smiling
Feel rain pouring
The heart is beating
Eyes flutter open, it’s black and white again…nothing is stirring.

Happiness is a Choice

2009-09-03T09:35:00.000-07:00

We’ve reached that point wherein I had to tiptoe at an early hour of the day carrying my baby on my arm, while carrying a handful of other stuff on my other arm; tiptoeing off away from the house, away from my husband.
The taxi driver asked, “Why this early?”
My reply was a hallow laughter.
I just came home from work. I had not slept yet, I could not sleep. After hearing the bomb he droped yet again (I've heard so many already), I felt so helpless and hopeless. All my efforts have gone to Hades. Nothing I ever did mattered. It is frustrating but I had it coming. I fell for the man that could have been and not for the man that really is.
Well, I had to break free. A life is at stake. Not my own or his, but Nathaniel’s.
I love Nathaniel with every fiber of my being. From the moment I heard his first cry upon giving birth to him; I have sworn to protect him with all that I am. I am ready to protect him even from his own father.
I have to be strong. The last thing my mother told me, when we were able to communicate a month ago, was “Be strong.” I am trying to be strong. I really am. Well, I have not break down yet…but almost there. I’m not really sure how long I would still be able to keep it all intact.
All I think of right now is that I have Nathaniel and that’s enough.
Happiness is a choice and I choose to be happy.

My passion, my love, and my confusion.

2009-08-27T09:45:00.001-07:00

Whenever I try to write, my hand freezes on the keyboard for a full two minutes before I can come up with any concrete thing to write. It’s either I’ve become too lazy or too rusty…or I’ve just ran out of things to say. Writing has always been the outlet for my emotions but lately even when very tragic things happened to me, I haven’t been writing. There could only be two plausible reasons for this, either I’ve found another outlet or that I have blocked my emotions.
Maybe an observation given to me was right, that I’ve grown numb.
When I was young (not that I am old, it just felt like eons ago), I used to really feel things bone-deep. But feeling or letting my emotions have their way took so much of me. Somehow, I had to protect myself or else I’ll be hanging myself in no time. It’s not that I’ve really grown numb, it’s just that I made myself become numb. Let me show you how it is like for me to feel. I’ll let loose my emotions for a while so you can understand the depth of its run. Now, listen…
My eyes see too much. I don’t just see what most people see but I see what most people have so triumphantly blocked from their sight that even if they try to dig in deep within their conscience, they still would not be able to conjure up any images. What do I see?
She is not just a child selling you Sampaguitas. She is a child that carried the flowers in her hands and hope in her heart that tonight she’d be able to sell it all so she can bring home a huge amount (which is not really huge) so there would be food for her and her siblings. I could see that she made her way to the streets with only her torn slippers as shield against the long journey and the cold concrete road. I could see in her eyes cynicism which does not fit her tender age. And I could see her future, dark, bleak, and dreary.
He is not just a child roaming aimlessly at the streets and inhaling rugby. He is a child who grew up without ever experiencing love. I believe, even almost certain, that he doesn’t really understand the meaning of it. I do not see his coarse manner as deplorable, I see it as something he had to develop to survive in the harshest of jungles. I see him growing up into…no, I could not see him growing up. I refuse to see. If I try to see more, I’m doomed. Let’s just look at another picture.
They are not just a homeless family. They’re a family whom people call lazy but really, they just lost hope. The parents die a little each day knowing they could not feed their children even if they too don’t eat. They can’t provide the basic needs of their children, no shelter, no food, not even clothing. That little kid sleeping beside his mother on the street without mat, without blanket, without shorts was just as big as my baby. Maybe he wasn’t as young since he could already sit up by himself, but he was so tiny, he was just as big as my 3-month-old baby. It breaks my heart.
I’m stopping now or else I’ll be rambling about the injustices that the powers that be impose upon the wretched of the world.
When I let myself feel, I feel too much that it not only drives me to feel pity and do charity but it drives me to feel pain and revolt.
Now that I am tied to the responsibility of being a mother and wife, I have to curb my emotions. Right now I’m working for a foreign capitalist company; I have to feed my son and help my husband. This is not where I really want to be, this is not what I really want to do with my life, this is not what I believe I live for…but I love my son with a love that only a mother can give (well, I am his mother). So, instead, I re-channel my emotions, I pour it all out towards my son. Not that I’ll be spoiling him; I’m a firm believer of the saying that goes: “Sometimes, you have to be cruel to be kind.” I’m willing to teach him a lesson even if it would be the hardest thing that I would have to do just so he would grow up to be a man—a real man.
Speaking of a real man, I’m beginning to suspect that I have two sons: my baby and my husband. In some ways he is a man…maybe…uh! But in more ways, he is still a child. Sometimes, I have to ask the question: “Is he really seven years older than me?” At first, I thought he was responsible, strong, reliable, and has firm good values… I used to think that he really loves me and cares for me…but he did something that hurt me deeply…not infidelity or something like that, but still it hurt me and the people I love (although indirectly), like my son and my mother. When you speak of love, you would never do something that could hurt those you love or do things that would make them suffer or drive them away. When you love someone, yes, you do make mistakes but you don’t repeat it over and over again. When you truly love someone, you would move heaven and earth just so that person you love won’t suffer or get hurt. When you truly love someone, you would even fight your own demons; you try to be the best you can be just to be deserving of that person you love.
If I let my emotions run deep, if I cease to be numb, it might result to a broken family…but I love my son so much…ironic, right? Because I feel too much like loving my son so much, I’m blocking my emotions so that I can’t feel pain so that I can keep my family intact.
These are just rumblings of a confused soul.

My Angel

2009-07-15T12:10:00.000-07:00

Before seeing my angel, I thought I knew what happiness was...but I was wrong.

Nothing compares to the feeling of giving birth to your angel. You carry him (my baby's a boy) for nine months. Every night you imagine what he may look like.

People would think you're crazy. You're all by yourself and you'd talk to him, sing to him, while having this huge grin on your face.

Every time he kicks, you'd go gaga and declare that he'd be the world's greatest soccer player!

You'd suddenly know all about vitamins and minerals. You'd drink your milk everyday. You'd stop drinking cola, lessen your sweets, and eat the dreaded bitter gourd!

When you reach your ninth month, you can't help but pace and anticipate his arrival. You'd start imagining everything that could go wrong. You'd start to doubt if you'd survive the labor pains. But you desperately want to see your angel.

And then the time comes.

You go to the hospital, go into the Labor Room. The doctors bombard you with questions, some a bit embarrassing. Then the pain starts to go crazy, then unbearable! You grab at anybody nearby (because they won't let that husband of yours in!). You want the pain to end. You punch the walls and scratch the doctors (I left scratch marks on my doctor's arms!).

Then, the baby's head can be seen! The doctors rush you into the Delivery Room. You want to get it over with! You want to push! But the doctors won't let you push yet. They haven't set up yet! But for you, the seconds seem to be hours. The pain is excruciating!

Then they allow you to push. So you push and push! Then you hear your angel's first cry! It's music to the ears! The pain is gone, you're exhausted, you can't feel the pain anymore. All you can hear and see and think about is your angel.

I laid eyes on him for the first time and I couldn't even begin to express what I felt. There seem to be no adjectives that could describe how I felt. Happiness, joy, bliss, delight, delirium, ecstasy, elation, enchantment, enjoyment, euphoria, exhilaration, exuberance, felicity, gaiety, geniality, gladness, glee, jubilation, laughter, lightheartedness, seventh heaven couldn't describe what I felt.

The nurses brought him near me and I was able to hold him in my arms for the first time. It was surreal. A moment ago, he was inside me, I couldn't see him let alone touch him. Then he was in my arms, I could see his beautiful face, and hear his sweet cries.

Every mom would say their baby is the most beautiful baby in the world. So I say my angel is the most beautiful and precious gift I ever received. I can't stop saying "I love you" to him.

I tell him that I love him not less than ten times a day! I stare at him even when he sleeps. I hug him and kiss him all day long. He smells so good! Even when I'm at work I can't help but picture him in my mind and imagine all the facial expressions that he is now capable of.

Every second of every day, I rejoice at the miracle that is my angel.

My baby's name is Nathaniel Paul Angelo. And I love him with all of my heart, with all of my soul, with all of my mind, and with all of my strength!

P.S.
When you'll have your own child, you'll understand what I'm saying.

Surrender the Dark

2008-07-09T07:34:00.000-07:00

She wouldn't survive it. She had already lost her heart once. It took her years to pick up all the tiny splinters and put it back together. She could not afford to loose it once again. She was certain that if she would loose it again, her mind and soul would go with it, and she would be left with nothing--just an old dried-up empty shell.
She was contented being left alone. She was at peace. She had no one to run all her plans through. She didn't answer to anyone. She had the freedom to do anything and everything she wants. The possiblities were endless. She was at the prime of her life. The oppurtunities opened their doors wide in anticipation for her. She had vowed never to kneel down again--never. And promises could never be broken.
Her nights were spent catching up on her reading and writing. Oh, how she loved to read and write. Reading was her escape from the harsh realities of life while writing was the outlet of her pent-up emotions. Or sometimes, she would just lit a scented candle, clutch her guitar, and softly sing her favorite songs by Regina Spektor and Nora Jones.
Her days were filled with activities. She'd wake-up early to greet the sun and jog through a trail that leads up to the top of the hill overlooking the see. There, she would sit for a while and meditate about the things she had learn the day before. Then she would slowly descend back to her little cottage where the steaming hot coffee she had prepared earlier wait for her. She would then head out to whichever activity she had lined-up for the day. There were always art exhibits, theatre workshops, meetings with various cause-oriented groups, lectures and speeches at forums, and activities to organize. Plus her self enrichment activities: dancing and violin lessons, swimming, and target shooting.
She also loved to travel, and she maximize each travel oppurtunity that comes her way. She had been to quite a few places already. She enjoyed these travels--she get to meet lots of people, see the gut-wrenching reality of the world as well as its breath-taking beauty, and experience strange but unique adventures. Little did she know that it is during these excapades that she would finally loose not only her entire being but her soul as well.

Duetchland

2008-07-03T09:14:00.000-07:00

First and foremost, let me say that I had never in my wildest dreams ever thought that I would be able to travel abroad. But then again, I was content in staying in the

Philippines

for I love my country so much.

Then, this invitation from the United Evangelical Mission came. It was a time when I was thirsting to serve the Lord, a time when I wanted to be of service to Him and His people again.

I have been sent by the church (UCCP) and by my faith in God to various areas in my community. I have been to the fishing islands, the urban poor communities, and even the mountains of my land to share with the children and the youth God’s message of love and redemption.

The invitation of UEM was a chance to share with my German brothers and sisters in faith about the Filipino people—our beliefs, our aspirations, our struggle… our lives.

And indeed I had felt welcomed in the UEM community. I was able to meet youths who were concerned with the plight of the Filipino people. I was touched by their desire to be of help to us and their willingness to help despite having to endure uneasy circumstances here in the Philippines.

During the day of the presentation, I was surprised and glad to find out that many were interested to learn about my country. They were interested in watching the documentary and playing the game of life that the youths in the UEM had prepared. I was also glad that I was able to answer their queries and enlightened them about the situation in the

Philippines

.

It was an experience worth remembering for the rest of my life. As I came back here in my country, I was thankful to be able to share my experiences in Germany through the school paper with my friends, with the youth of my church, and most of all with the whole

Silliman University.

I hope that the partnership between UCCP and UEM would indeed grow stronger as the years progress. And that the two institutions would further intensify their commitment in serving God’s people and fighting those that violate the basic human rights of all the peoples of the world.

To the Dead and the Desaparecidos

2008-06-28T10:15:00.000-07:00

Jay-r: hi
spring: hi too
Jay-r: how r u?
spring: am ok
spring: pretending to be busy
spring: hey, check my blog
spring: http://angelspring.blogpost.com/
Jay-r: i did check
spring: good, then join my poll and answer that politics is the topic u like
Jay-r: hahahahahha
Jay-r: soon i'll also make my own blog and post my writings
Jay-r: a comrade from the southeast is missing and until now no updates
spring: y missing?
Jay-r: he was conducting organizing work then he got picked-up
Jay-r: nobody witnessed
spring: God! the bloody crackdown continues!
Jay-r: yah, because he won't get lost easily
spring: do u know him?
Jay-r: yup, he's my uncle
Jay-r: when i was still a baby, he prepares my milk
Jay-r: even when i was still a baby, my family were already active
spring: really? and you still don't have any word from him?
Jay-r: none, a farmer told us that he was picked-up and was made a guide by the 79IB
spring: as in 79 infantry battalion
Jay-r: yah
spring: since when?
Jay-r: since june 11
spring: almost two weeks have passed...and no word from him
Jay-r: yah, very painful
spring: so, he is added to the list of desaparecidos?
Jay-r: yup, that's right
Jay-r: my father is also a desaparecido
spring: really? and your brother was killed right?
Jay-r: yah, my brother was a martyr
spring: you're the only one left!
spring: good men die young or so they say
Jay-r: i'm going to follow their footsteps but i have to go to school first
Jay-r: the spirit of activism is within my blood because i was born to it
spring: it is really painful to the heart
spring: we cry, we grieve, but then we wipe our tears, rise up, and fight...
Jay-r: wow! you're right
spring: the struggle taught me that
Jay-r: some people die and some people disappeared but many people will rise and continue the task they left
spring: that's right
Jay-r: hahahaha but we don't know when
spring: as long as we live in this kind of world, the fight would never end...
spring: however long it takes, fifty years, a hundred, five hundred, a thousand...it doesn't matter how long the fight, what matters is that we have contributed...
Jay-r: yah, because the greatest sacrifice is not easy to do
Jay-r: to face death
spring: to die fighting is very noble and we all hope that our deaths would be like that but to strive to continue to live so we can fight is a must...
Jay-r: wow! with all these inspiring words i might go full-time again

This was a chat that I had with a friend earlier (the original is mostly in Cebuano).

It made me remember . . .
that the fight is still on
It made me remember . . .
the people who gave their lives for the struggle
It made me remember . . .
my favorite uncle, a minister, who died with 5 bullet wounds in the head (the last time I saw him was when he was helping me figure out things in life)
It made me remember . . .
my friend, he was only 20 years old when he was ambushed and killed (the last time I saw him was when we shook hands before he left)
It made me remember . . .
one of the greatest persons I've ever met, one who's life was a testament to his longing to serve the people, a person who sacrificed everything (and i mean everything) in life to help the masses (the last thing that I said to him was, "Don't get killed so I'll see you again soon," the next thing I heard, he was dead)
It made me remember . . .
one of my mentors, she was funny and caring and she too spent all here life as a volunteer to serve the people (the last time that I saw her was when we were going over our plans on how to execute our activities despite the very very small funds that we had), she was abducted and until now, I have never heard from her again.

I owe it to all of them to continue . . .

I cry, I grieve, but then I wipe my tears, rise up, and continue the fight.

Struggling

2008-06-28T07:07:00.000-07:00

Up and down the merry-go-round to and fro on the great see-saw round and round my head goes round wakefulness and slumber up and about with laughter and sobriety to hysterics of a hyena and to cries of ghosts searching for the saving light on and on and on and in and out circling circles round about sporting a smile and wearing a frown stepping back and taking a step to joyful glee of insanity and sober reality that stars shine up above and the flutter of wings of a dove the question is: to love or not to love?

Imagined Reality

2008-06-27T06:22:00.000-07:00

of sharp speared horns of unicorns
of golden glittering wings of pies of butterflies
of glistening scales of rainbow on the tails that fades of mermaids
of blazing infernal fires of the ago eons by gigantic cosmic dragons
of Lisa Croft, Indiana Jones, and Maria Makiling--swinging, shooting, and singing (respectively) . . .

. . . for a pot of golden tinkling metals that are ringing a siren sound of longing for those who long to seek the unfounded treasures--

of Jack Sparrow with his broken compass with a crazy arrow
of smiles from lips that crinkles the eyes to delight the southrough the wandering of the mind
of angels and fairies
of golden roses and lush green grasses
of El Dorado and Atlantis
of the Knight of nights and kisses and caresses
of passion unleashed in a wonderland island of dreamland . . .

. . . dream on!

Strung up on hook and i

2008-06-26T08:54:00.000-07:00

The guitar that hungs as it is strung up on a hook is what i eye to be strummed from G to D the E and C with up and up down down and up and up that sound may spill from the O of its mouth always open for a strum like my exposed heart the shape of a heart always out in the open that love may touch that the soul may rejoice to electrify the mind that commands my eyes to eye the guitar that hungs as it is strung up on a hook and that i may strum from E to D again then C and G and A minor to F sharp minor for a minor sound that ascends from the depths of the recess of the cobwebed mind that has allowed the exposed heart to play its song for the longest time now and is now eyeing the guitar that hungs as it is strung up on a hook and i

Sam Raping Maria

2008-06-25T09:08:00.000-07:00

Maria gave a blood chilling scream of salty tears a hiccup of blood and sweat a labored breath barely breathing upon pieces of torn clothing of blue, white, yellow, and red as red as blood as red as rage as red as a rose in the garden of war with guns from M16 to 14 to baby armalite to infant to .45 with bullets of gold that shine from the heart to pierce the dreadful laughter from the salivating mouth of Sam whose greedy fingers greedily clutching the smooth, now bruised hips of Maria defiling her mounds pinching her nipples to agonizing red again red in her eyes in her heart her red heart aflame boiling to the boiling point but Sam keeps her on chains colored chains with animated designs with faces of Paris Hilton, Usher, Shakira, Fernando Poe, and Gloria. Sam feeds Maria scraps a day just to keep her barely alive for him to push in and out, in and out, in and out of Maria and plunder again the juices of her cunt until the pain grows numb and everyday, every hour, every minute, every second a never ending nightmare Maria got used to, Maira got used to, to dull the pain so the pain will go away...Maria close your eyes while i take and take and take and take...Maria close your eyes. For Sam will slap her, whip her if she whimpers of freedom...freedom, freedom, freedom a distant sound out of reach from the closed hand...of Maria. Sated Sam laughs out loud at the poor Maria in shambles and crumbles in tears in pain and in shame matted with sweat and blood of blood colored red, bloody red...in her cunt it is red, in her mind it is red, in her heart it is red, in her feverish soul it is red and red would her wrists be when she would manage to untangle the chains and red would be the day that Maria opens her eyes and red would be the land where she would wage her war and red would be the blood of Sam as Maria will enlist all the Marias in a war against imperialists.

Anything and Everything Under the Sun

2008-06-25T07:23:00.000-07:00

"A jack-of-all-trades," that is what my mother would describe me. But I always hated it when she adds, "but master of none."

Perhaps my mother indeed knew me very well and intentionally said those words because I was challenged to prove her wrong. I do not claim though that I am now "master of all," all I can claim is that I try to do the best in anything that I do.

My being a jack-of-all-trades is not only confined to my traits but to my interests as well. Since I was a child, I had always been curious and imaginative. I can lay on my bed for hours and just think of anything. I can also immerse in the library's pool of books, or sit in front of the computer and research any topic that pops into my mind.

I could talk about a lot of things as my interest encompasses many subjects. I could discuss topics that range from the simply mundane to the highly complicated. I love thinking, reading, researching, and sharing about anything and everything under the sun (and even the moon).

Here are some of the topics that I would be discussing in my Haven:

Sex
Love
Music
Places
People
Politics
Movies
History
Culture
Science
Religion
Showbiz
Diseases
Emotions
Economics
Philosophy
Astronomy
Archeology

I'm also planning to include poems and short stories.

I would also love to hear comments and criticisms. I would take no offense as I see criticisms as a necessity for growth and improvement.

Furthermore, you can also give your suggestions and requests to whatever topics you would like for me to discuss or give my opinion to.

My hope is for my readers to enjoy each visit to my Haven until it becomes their Haven too.