People. I think this is why I avoid the internet. Whenever I have the time or whenever I am procrastinating I always end up reading and looking at my past life and I end up realizing how I miss my old self. The simple complicated me that I used to be. The private me. The one that can easily hide from people whenever I want to. I miss that. I miss just blabbering about my sh*t not scared of people reading and judging me. Not afraid to just pour out my sentiments without thinking about the people who will be reading them. I miss writing in English. A lot. I miss just writing without the politics. I miss how "unscarry" writing was for me then. It used to be simple and I used to love it. Now it's all about compliance and politics--two things I hate the most. And maybe these are the reasons why I cannot write the way I want to and write the things I want to write about. If this is growth then I don't like it one bit. 

I saw this in your blog as I was retracing my steps. You said, "Comfort." As I read the word I never wanted to step forward again.

i haven't written anything for the longest time. and by "written anything," i mean written something that is a product of both my heart and my mind, something created by the mermaid within me.

maybe that's also the main reason why i haven't been feeling anything lately. i haven't been in touch with the mermaid swimming inside me. so now i am giving myself the opportunity to just rant and think and feel and write. in this space i would like to fully experience myself--the authentic self i haven't been feeling for quite sometime now.

maybe if i just let the mermaid speak i would know why she is sad.

i would like to assume that the reason why i haven't been writing anymore can be traced to the time when i knew that people would be reading and judging my work. ever since i have fully embraced the life of a writer, and ironically, that was also the time that i have stopped writing.

and maybe that's one of the reasons why i exude this sadness that people see in me.

and now i have to end this ranting and feeling because i have other things in mind and other things to do rather than to speak silently and/or loudly with myself (or to listen silently and intently to what the mermaid is saying).  

and so i do not know if i make sense, but then again, who cares? what is important is that, even for such a short short moment, i was able to listen and let the mermaid speak again.

My sister found pictures of this beautiful island of Collibra on the internet. She was so excited about it that she posted it on her blog.

http://almaaabalos.multiply.com/photos/album/5/Summer_2010_Destination

Since it's summer she planned a family outing in this island.

This is one of the awesome views you will see along the very long way (rough roads and a weird detour) to the shores of Tambobong (The drive was almost 2 hours from our house, Anolid, Mangaldan).

See, there's even a sign going to China!

But the long drive was all worth it when we saw the shores of Tambobong. The white sand of the beach is not very fine but is interestingly pebbly and coral-ish.

There's a 15-20 minute boat ride (Php 650.00 per boat) before you get to Collibra island.

Along the way you will see Crocodile Island (named that way because of its shape).

I was so awed I wasn't able to take a decent picture of the waves of the flying fish we saw.

This is the beautiful island of Collibra. They say that it's called that way since it was inhabited by snakes then.
Since Collibra is a virgin island you can only find shelter under the bushes of this really dangerous thorn plant. Exciting!

Collibra island's shore is full of beautiful rocks.

The extra virgin island of Collibra is a great destination this summer. If you're the adventurous and i-don't-mind-the-long-drive-i-just-wanna-be-on-a-beautiful-people-free-beach type then this is the perfect destination for you to soak up the sun!

ang saya lang ng kalibo experience ko this year. well pangalawang taon ko palang naman. ang saya lang kasi this time mas nakabond ko ang mga pinsan, cguro dahil 3 lang naman kami nila jere kaya ganun. pero ayos na ayos. wala lang masaya lang yung feeling na kahit papano nararamdaman mo na na nakikilala mo yung pamilya niya at ang history niya/nila.

anyway, grabe first time ko lang talagang naramdaman yung kalasingan na wala na akong naalala. cguro dahil galing ako sa sakit at naggagamot pa ako ng mga panahong iyon. pero basta bukod sa nawasak ako WASAK talaga ang ati-atihan siya ang pinakamasyang pistang napuntahan ko. sabi nga ni manong rj, san ka pa ba makakakita ng isang bayang lasing tuwing pista! tama siya. ang saya.

basta ayun ang saya lang talaga! salamat, phillip sa walang kasawaang pagimbita. next year mas masaya to malamang! excited na ako!!!

oh oh oh!

PS: cancelled ang unang schedule ng flight namin na wala man lang paghihingi ng paumanhin ang cebupacific! anyway, ayun so nalipat sa 11am ang aming flight imbes na mas maaga, at why not! kasabay namin sa plane si illac diaz!!!! yun lang! :)

my friend tif posted something on my wall as a reply to my status message which i also posted here. anyway, i got so interested with the one photo that she linked that i visited the site and ended up seeing the entire thing http://thegradersfolio.blogspot.com/. 

silence is within me. silence that translates into void. void that eats up logic. logic that is not there from the beginning.

ngayong taon e susubukan kong buhayin ang multiply ko uli. maguupload na ako ng photos (pasintabi kay Phillip Kimpo Jr.) heheheh.

Sa tuwing papatak ang ulan, may takot
Na dumadaloy mula sa pinagtagpi-tagping
Kalawanging bubong. Ang mga dingding
Na yari sa iba’t ibang mukha
Ng pulitiko at playwud
Mula sa mga nagibang bahay
Noong nakaraang demolisyon
Ay singrupok ng paniniwalang may pag-asa
Na makakamtan ang ginhawa ng piso.
Dilim: Langit na kasing itim ng burak
Na umaagos mula sa umaapaw
Na estero; ang sangsang ay pumupuno
Sa pagitan ng gitla at buntong hininga.
Ang hanging lumalatigo
Sa mumunting tahanan ay nagpapaalalang
Maaaring hindi matapos ang lahat sa pagsikat ng araw.

 

I don’t know which is worse, Imelda explicitly claiming to be the handmaiden of the true, good and beautiful, which are the hallmarks of art, or Arroyo implicitly doing so. Imelda at least had the external trappings of beauty, even if her and her husband’s rule was uglier than the portrait of Dorian Gray. Arroyo doesn’t even have that. Her own rule has become only, well, the artistic representation of all that is not true, good and beautiful. For her to decree who should be national artists is for her to decree who should be national heroes.

That’s not just a Carlo Caparas fantasy, that’s a delusion.

nakakatawang isiping pag-aari mo ang isang bagay na (sigurado kang) hinding hindi mapupunta sa iba.

kung kayo ang tatanungin ano nga ba ang dapat gawin sa mga taong nag-aasam ng bagay na iyo na?

BIG

Everything about my father was big.
Especially in the beginning, when he lumbered
About the house: slow, silent and ponderous
On legs like my grandfather's ipil trees--
Ancient, petrified into grim, stony columns.

But the biggest thing about him was his voice.
It carried through and filled our home, smashed
Through walls and shook dust from the ceiling.
We could never escape that voice, which rose
Mightily, like a dark cavern around us.

But that, like I said, was in the beginning.
In my beginning, to be exact, because I only
Seemed to have begun in his presence,
A small thing defined by his bigness.

So what a problem it was when, after his stroke,
My father began to shrink.
Not immediately, but in slow, unseen degrees.
A mountain sinking into the earth.

His entire left side was paralyzed. He reminded me
Of a broken puppet. For the longest time,
He was hurt by the light and raged over loud noises,
Television, human laughter. He wanted his room
Completely dark, like a tomb.

One night, he whispered to me in a voice so weak
It could barely climb out of his throat, "Help me,
I can't breathe lying down." This was only
Days before he died.

So I lifted him up and held him close, surprised
That we were exactly the same size.
Now tell me,
How could someone my size leave an absence
As big as the world?


By Ramil Digal Gulle
From his book "Tracks Without Giants"
Santo Tomas University Press, 2001.

This is my favorite father poem ever. Happy father's day, dad. See you in my dreams.

grabe. bumigat ng konte heart ko pagkabasa dito. binubutingting ko kasi yung luma kong email tapos ito ang nakita ko. hay. 

(kalakip ng dalawang ppt attachments)

it is overwhelming. *tears*