We are about to hear mass. While waiting for my sisters I started taking pictures. A picture of sunset but the sun is already hidden.
It reminds us that the day has already ended and it's time to take a rest.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines by Arnel Paciano Casanova
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
Write for example "The floodgates are shattered and the heavens shiver as it cries"
The night wind wails in mourning and the sky bowed down
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
I loved my people and they loved me too
though at nights like this, I wanted to hold them closely in my arms
but i lost them in the rage of the heavens
As their tears swept them to the edge of the seas
I loved them and they loved me too
How could one not love their sweetest smiles and gentle eyes
Tonight I write the saddest lines
To know that I did not have them and lost them in my arms
To hear the silence in the crashing waves
Makes the night darker than dark
To feel the emptiness of the moonlight sucks the strength in my heart
why would it matter if my love could not keep them
my heart is shattered and they are not with me
That is all. in the horizon, a dirge is singing.
in the horizon my spirit longs for the joyful children lost in the sea
like Sisa, I search for my Basilios shouting their names
until my voice is hoarse unheard , unheeded
we from this time, will not be the same
i love my people and i shall never fail loving them
that is certain and if my love could not keep them
i shall make my love greater than the tears that the heavens could give
they will be in my gentle arms yet strong, unbent
their laughter, their hopes, their dreams will be safe in my heart
i shall love them even if i have to endure the pain
even if the floodgates would open again
the love of my people and my love for them
shall forever endure
we shall speak to the universe in compassion
because through nights like this one i held them in my arms
the pain of loving and losing shall make me
regain the strength to stand, walk and believe and love again.
Write for example "The floodgates are shattered and the heavens shiver as it cries"
The night wind wails in mourning and the sky bowed down
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
I loved my people and they loved me too
though at nights like this, I wanted to hold them closely in my arms
but i lost them in the rage of the heavens
As their tears swept them to the edge of the seas
I loved them and they loved me too
How could one not love their sweetest smiles and gentle eyes
Tonight I write the saddest lines
To know that I did not have them and lost them in my arms
To hear the silence in the crashing waves
Makes the night darker than dark
To feel the emptiness of the moonlight sucks the strength in my heart
why would it matter if my love could not keep them
my heart is shattered and they are not with me
That is all. in the horizon, a dirge is singing.
in the horizon my spirit longs for the joyful children lost in the sea
like Sisa, I search for my Basilios shouting their names
until my voice is hoarse unheard , unheeded
we from this time, will not be the same
i love my people and i shall never fail loving them
that is certain and if my love could not keep them
i shall make my love greater than the tears that the heavens could give
they will be in my gentle arms yet strong, unbent
their laughter, their hopes, their dreams will be safe in my heart
i shall love them even if i have to endure the pain
even if the floodgates would open again
the love of my people and my love for them
shall forever endure
we shall speak to the universe in compassion
because through nights like this one i held them in my arms
the pain of loving and losing shall make me
regain the strength to stand, walk and believe and love again.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
The Joy Being a Filipino
Pinoys regardless of adversity has always been among the world’s happiest people. In fact it is during the darkest most desperate times when we laugh loudest, love hardest, it is when we are at our most inventive . This is what makes Jollibee proud to be Filipino. By staying true to its and principles. Jolibee has weathered and overcome economic uncertainty and multinational competition to emerge as this country’s largest and most successful fast-food restaurant chain. With over 660 stores in the Philippines and 50 abroad thousands of dedicated employees and partners and millions upon millions of satisfied customers, there is a reason to be jolly. This dramatic achievement , however, is merely a result of hard work and good values. By remaining close to the interests (and appetites) of the Pinoy, by never compromising quality, by striving to provide a haven for all that is good in the Filipino, Jolibee has become an institution in the hearts and minds of this country’s people. A testament to our capabilities as a nation that cries out Pilipino tayo. Excellence? Chicken lang yan.
I like this ad from Jolibee that's why I'm posting it in my blog. It's really Pinoy. Even in the worst situation like the recent typhoon Ondoy Pinoys show their best qualities. Out of the situation emerged unsung heroes who risk their lives to save the lives of others. Ang galing talaga ng Pinoy.
I like this ad from Jolibee that's why I'm posting it in my blog. It's really Pinoy. Even in the worst situation like the recent typhoon Ondoy Pinoys show their best qualities. Out of the situation emerged unsung heroes who risk their lives to save the lives of others. Ang galing talaga ng Pinoy.
I Love to Volunteer
This is one of the things that I love to do volunteer work. Helped in packing things for distribution to the victims of the calamity. I was a victim of the calamity but I still feel lucky because my family are still there. I was at home when the flood happened. There's nothing I can do to help them my only resort was to pray for them and I know that God will not leave them in that situation. There are a lot of lessons learned from the calamity.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
How Many Storms Could Break a Heart? by Maria Isabel Garcia
DE RERUM NATURA
Science will always be prepared with some possible explanation for what caused the floods, most likely even their links to climate change. Science could begin by recounting our city’s natural history which points to the Pasig River continually caressing the lips of Manila Bay. Science could readily give you a litany of elevations across the cities of the metropolis, technically illustrating how Cainta and Marikina could be natural gigantic basins. Science could be reminding you right now that our overpopulation, and the way all 10 million of us have carved our own abodes in every nook and cranny of the city, has aggravated the tragedy. But all these ideas, as they lurk in my head, all take the background for now, as I think of my friend whose family got trapped in De la Costa, Montalban during the storm.
De la Costa, Montalban is one of the areas worst hit by “Ondoy.” I saw it on television — the nearby saturated hills caused landslides which buried houses and their inhabitants. During the storm, my friend’s husband tied their kids to a tree to keep them from drifting with the strong flood currents. They said they saw their friends and neighbors pass them carried by the strong currents. It painted an image I can never forget. Two days after, when I met my friend and Marijoe, 11, one of her daughters, I did not know what to say to Marijoe who celebrated her birthday tied to a tree. A few years ago, they were victims of another tragedy — their house burned down and their family had to sleep in a basketball court for weeks. I found myself telling her that she can face anything from now on. And when I left them, I wondered to myself if what I said were true.
Do our chances for happiness decrease when we experience such deep tragedies like Ondoy? A few weeks ago, someone sent me a very moving article. It was published in June 2009 issue of Atlantic under Psychology. It was an ongoing study of 268 men and how they have fared for 72 years since their days at Harvard. The study followed them through youth, shifting careers, changing marriages, parenthood, grandparenthood and old age, and all the joys and heartaches that came with those rites of passage, until death. Some of them are very famous men — like Norman Mailer and John F. Kennedy (although JFK’s records cannot be opened until 2040). The study’s writer, Joshua Wold Shenk, began his piece by asking if out of these life stories, there would emerge some formula for happiness.
The research hoped that maybe leafing through an archive, browned by the passage of 72 years but constantly visited to be updated, would give us wandering and wondering humans some clues to what makes for a happy life. Maybe it wanted to know how many shots of tragedy could we take before we break our hearts irretrievably? How healthy should we be to consider ourselves happy? If we lose a limb or the control of our bodies, do we inevitably lose our balance, not just for space, but also for life? How much money really helps in living our desired life and how many coins over is it when it begins to be a burden? How fulfilled should we be in our chosen work, in the people we have chosen to love and be responsible for in order to come out happy?
There was no formula. Of course, there isn’t any. Seventy-two simultaneous years of 268 men fall short not just in terms of how their stories could apply to the rest of us, non-Harvard beings and unmale. They also fall short in measuring up to how each of the subjects viewed their own complex lives. They themselves were lost in the passion and gravity of their own lives to consciously think of proportions that could be the recipe for lasting glee.
It was not even the absence of obstacles and tragedies that made for happiness. The only thing that was clear is that for those who thought they were happy, they raged with life. In the words of one chosen case, he “squeezed that lemon.” They were the ones who consciously lived fully, storms and sunsets, summer days and sunrises. They fought earth, water, air and fire and their combinations, and these souls prevailed.
I seriously doubt if a science column or a 72-year-old study could ever console 11-year-old Marijoe who just lost their house and saw her friends drift into oblivion. But I saw fire in her eyes and I hope the fire stays.
(Phil. Star Oct. 1, 2009)
Science will always be prepared with some possible explanation for what caused the floods, most likely even their links to climate change. Science could begin by recounting our city’s natural history which points to the Pasig River continually caressing the lips of Manila Bay. Science could readily give you a litany of elevations across the cities of the metropolis, technically illustrating how Cainta and Marikina could be natural gigantic basins. Science could be reminding you right now that our overpopulation, and the way all 10 million of us have carved our own abodes in every nook and cranny of the city, has aggravated the tragedy. But all these ideas, as they lurk in my head, all take the background for now, as I think of my friend whose family got trapped in De la Costa, Montalban during the storm.
De la Costa, Montalban is one of the areas worst hit by “Ondoy.” I saw it on television — the nearby saturated hills caused landslides which buried houses and their inhabitants. During the storm, my friend’s husband tied their kids to a tree to keep them from drifting with the strong flood currents. They said they saw their friends and neighbors pass them carried by the strong currents. It painted an image I can never forget. Two days after, when I met my friend and Marijoe, 11, one of her daughters, I did not know what to say to Marijoe who celebrated her birthday tied to a tree. A few years ago, they were victims of another tragedy — their house burned down and their family had to sleep in a basketball court for weeks. I found myself telling her that she can face anything from now on. And when I left them, I wondered to myself if what I said were true.
Do our chances for happiness decrease when we experience such deep tragedies like Ondoy? A few weeks ago, someone sent me a very moving article. It was published in June 2009 issue of Atlantic under Psychology. It was an ongoing study of 268 men and how they have fared for 72 years since their days at Harvard. The study followed them through youth, shifting careers, changing marriages, parenthood, grandparenthood and old age, and all the joys and heartaches that came with those rites of passage, until death. Some of them are very famous men — like Norman Mailer and John F. Kennedy (although JFK’s records cannot be opened until 2040). The study’s writer, Joshua Wold Shenk, began his piece by asking if out of these life stories, there would emerge some formula for happiness.
The research hoped that maybe leafing through an archive, browned by the passage of 72 years but constantly visited to be updated, would give us wandering and wondering humans some clues to what makes for a happy life. Maybe it wanted to know how many shots of tragedy could we take before we break our hearts irretrievably? How healthy should we be to consider ourselves happy? If we lose a limb or the control of our bodies, do we inevitably lose our balance, not just for space, but also for life? How much money really helps in living our desired life and how many coins over is it when it begins to be a burden? How fulfilled should we be in our chosen work, in the people we have chosen to love and be responsible for in order to come out happy?
There was no formula. Of course, there isn’t any. Seventy-two simultaneous years of 268 men fall short not just in terms of how their stories could apply to the rest of us, non-Harvard beings and unmale. They also fall short in measuring up to how each of the subjects viewed their own complex lives. They themselves were lost in the passion and gravity of their own lives to consciously think of proportions that could be the recipe for lasting glee.
It was not even the absence of obstacles and tragedies that made for happiness. The only thing that was clear is that for those who thought they were happy, they raged with life. In the words of one chosen case, he “squeezed that lemon.” They were the ones who consciously lived fully, storms and sunsets, summer days and sunrises. They fought earth, water, air and fire and their combinations, and these souls prevailed.
I seriously doubt if a science column or a 72-year-old study could ever console 11-year-old Marijoe who just lost their house and saw her friends drift into oblivion. But I saw fire in her eyes and I hope the fire stays.
(Phil. Star Oct. 1, 2009)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)