 | Ikot | May 9, '08 12:12 PM
for everyone |
Tuloy-tuloy. Tuloy tuloy ang pag-ikot ng mundo ngunit ako'y nakahimpil pa rin dito. Hapo. Talunan. Naghihinagpis. Higit sa lahat, nag-iisa.
Siguro ang pinakamahirap na gawain sa lahat ay ang ipakita ang matamis na ngiti habang may tinitiis na poot at kalungkutan. Hindi natatapos ang isang araw na hindi ko nahuhuli ang sarili kong tulala at may namumugtong mga mata.
Patuloy kong inuusisa ang aking sarili, "Ano'ng mali sa akin?" Sa tinagal-tagal ng panahong kilala ko ang aking pagkatao - mula sa kapuri-puring aspeto hanggang sa mga kahinaan - muhkang hindi ko pa rin kilala kung sino ako. "Bakit parating may kulang?" Ang buong pagkakabatid ko'y ang pagiging tapat ang sagot sa lahat ng pagdududa. Hindi ako manloloko. Hindi ko kailanman ninais na manlinlang. Kung ano man ang ipinapakita ko, iyon ay dahil pinapatakbo ako ng aking nararamdaman. Malalim ang pinagmulan na sa aking pag-aakala'y sapat na. Nagkamali ako.
May pagkakataong sasampalin ka ng tadhana sa pisngi upang ika'y matuto. Mga ilang ulit na rin naman akong nagkaganoon, ngunit wala akong pinagkatandaan. Tulad ng isang gamo-gamong nahahalina sa ningas, walang pag-iingat kong iniwan ang mga tao at pangyayaring tiyak at may patutunguhan. Nilamon ako ng aking pagiging bulagsak.
Mahirap tanggapin na sa kabila ng matuwid mong pakay at damdamin, may mga taong mas pipiliin ang mga katangiang lugod sa nakakarami. Masakit isipin na ang mababaw na pamantayan ay nangibabaw laban sa tapat na hangarin; na ang batayan sa paghirang ng taong makakasama ay ayon sa pagtanggap ng iba. Ako'y napinsala ng malupit at bulaang sukatan ng pagkatao. Higit sa lahat, ako'y naging isang hangal.
Ikot. Hiling ko na sana'y tumulin pa ang pag-ikot ng mga kamay ng orasan upang matapos na rin ang sakit. Ngayon ko kailangan ng paghihilom. Nais kong bumilis ang pag-ikot ng mundo nang ako ay tuluyan nang bumangon sa pagkakasadlak. Sawa na ako sa dusa.
Isa lang naman ang may katiyakan: tuloy ang pag-inog ng panahon. Sa huli'y susuko rin ang sakit... 10 December 2006 First Blog entry I made in Filipino - was proud of it (full of raw emotion and so) so I'm posting it here.
| What Paolo Means |
You are influential and persuasive. You tend to have a lot of power over people.
Generally, you use your powers for good. You excel at solving other people's problems.
Occasionally, you do get a little selfish and persuade people to do things that are only in your interest.
You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection.
You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive.
You have the classic "Type A" personality.
You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.
You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.
At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself.
You are relaxed, chill, and very likely to go with the flow.
You are light hearted and accepting. You don't get worked up easily.
Well adjusted and incredibly happy, many people wonder what your secret to life is. |
Do you agree?
This is kinda stupid. The longer your name the more it puts. I put "Pao" and I'm a lesser person. I call travesty! XD
| Mold | Apr 24, '08 3:58 PM
for everyone |
When I was 6 years old, it became apparent what my role in the family would be. It is of utmost obligation to have my parents go up the stage every March to help me get a piece of parchment paper with scribbles of "With Distinction" on them. The nebulizer was my best friend so I had to be pseudo-incubated in the classroom during recess and unknowingly be withdrawn from PE classes and field demonstrations. In Christmas banquets I get to take the label of the bookworm grandchild - so much that I would get to receive a couple of heavy books of Mammals of South America or Oxford's Thesaurus. Boys even shorter than me got to bully me real hard. No one never got to understand that one day when my father had to physically drag me out of the house to go to school. It didn't matter even if three out of the four buttons of my shirt already flew out or the linings torn apart. Grade School Academics was cake. Ironically, I loathed report card distributions. It's as if there is still something to be ashamed of despite the very satisfactory ratings and my name written using the teacher's well-kept colored chalk. The 90-above general average wasn't enough to avert the dominance.
The invasion continued as I entered puberty. My relatives compelled me to take an exam in Manila Science High School, which I did. My being wasn't able to handle the overwhelming rush of uncertainty and intimidation that it rendered me catching a fever as I went home. My memory fails now to account if I indeed finished the exam. I am inclined to say "No", as MaSci alumnus never got crossed out of the task list. Still, it enveloped; I found myself being manipulated by the weaker class. My only attempt on silent personal outbursts got quashed prematurely. To avoid being confrontational, I could only help but accept hits and misses on the nights I was supposed to be home early. The same expectations were placed on top of my head as I succumbed to a travesty in self-awareness and false metamorphosis. Church presented itself as a medium when I became participative of reading verses during mass. Perhaps playing Joseph in the Living Nativity Scene helped, though it caused more embarrassment. Winning the championship in the dance contest when I was 16 surely was bittersweet, as well as bagging the 1st prize in the Millennium runway fashion show. Meanwhile, my family was just on the first little pebbles on rebuilding. Witnessing the interactions between members of the large clan and the divide between the self-made doctors, lawyers and executives group and the-rest-as-they-put-it planted its first seeds on my perspective of the ladder and pride theory.
Initially, I did not intend on entering college after my futile pretension of becoming a student in the University of the Philippines. What was I thinking? The chains were still there. Swimming classes were uncomfortably tough, and even if I wanted to, I never learned how to swim. Competition among the 40++ Computer Science students of UST was short of cutthroat. Everything had to be done right the first time, and as I failed a 5 unit Algebra and Trigonometry class I half-bailed and slowly became parasitic and nonchalant. Not to mention that the rest of what they call learning was a blur. At this point, my aunts have halted on their questions as a number of my cousins already surpassed me in the mental superiority race. The eyes were off me for a while until I made a insightful little speech about our ancestral home which was about to be sold. Yet, I was still regular with limited movement.
I am still trying to recall how and what made me know about the call center company I applied into. With so many expectedly failed interviews from IT companies it sparked that there is nowhere to go. So, I became a part of the commonly-dubbed zombie community of American voice over talents. As a technical support agent I milked my degree for what it's worth and sadly made it an excuse. But for the first time, pride and principle were used as weapons. It was short-lived, and yielded very little. There was still a battle of emotional egging over the lack of appropriate education. My first supervisory job landed as a result. More and more string-pulls were done and avoided. Ambitions were set aside and the caravan stops.
With a massive outstanding balance from Citibank, an unused membership at the gym, countless of gadgets thrown away, unfinished tasks in self-development and practical living, too many bad dates, useless fornication, and four years worth of messing around, it's quite difficult to ask the instinct. Definitely, something off the hook would do the trick. The only problem is: would it be better to just be securely dummied around than to be set roaming blindly? The thing I call success is far from reach for now.
As they say, you should always count your blessings. In a nutshell, after some days and weeks of seemingly uneventful and wearisome entries here comes some leaf-turning. It will be refreshing to know that I am able to let a few little good things be noticed. Some of my favorites this week:5. Kuya's House Being Sabotaged - for the first time in years, local TV has captured my interest (in parts) through the latest Big Brother Season. Watching people create unnecessary drama for good TV (or lack thereof). Mid-life crisis vs. rebellious hormones well executed. I'd rather watch the stage parents' interactions rather than some poor attempt on teenage show-mance and workshops. Good job in inducing potential trauma to minors. Big Brother doing obvious damage control is gold. Real or not, having his ass handed to him would be the day. I say replace him with the Spanish dad. He'd be better TV! 4. More Reality Show Meltdowns - I must admit that these aren't really "good" but, come on! They're on TV! American Idol has provided me with some painful, but still giggle-worthy entertainment in Brooke. Watching her downward spiral lies somewhere between comedic and disturbing. Since "Jolene", she has been observed to be slowly losing her grip. It's kinda hard to watch her though, and she needs to be let go. At least Sanjaya reveled on being abysmal. I don't care who wins anymore...3. Indie British Invade Me - new music has continually changed my moods from time to time. I lately find myself being immersed to UK Indie Rock bands. Back are the days when Oasis kills time for me. Nowadays, there are highly talented groups as The Kooks, Kaiser Chiefs, Arctic Monkeys and Bloc Party influencing my musical taste, or simply just letting the lazy afternoon pass by easily.2. Hard Candy Leaks - a week before the official album release, it has completely become available illegally online. Marketing strategy or not, the album has nothing to be ashamed of. This collaboration can fly. Some tracks are very similar to the likes of Timbaland's previous spells with Nelly and Justin, but it sure adds a large chunk of M on them. The album will be playing in my ipod for at least a week. Non-stop.1. Paolo gets a Nudge - in the quest to start over, I just about had it. At one solo moment at Church I basically was being a jerk by saying that I don't need a miracle. If something good was going to happen that day, then it would happen after I go out. In a few hours, my phone rang... [the rest is still something we have to wait for, nonetheless this is already a big boost].Foolish and insignificant as they look like, I wouldn't put them here if they didn't make a difference to my atmosphere. I am still looking very intently at the clouds.
This has been done a year ago: You ain't original. Never was. Please put him in a cage match against Kristy Lee.
It has been 2 years since my paternal grandfather passed away. I would just like to post my online eulogy for him during that time.I just buried my grandfather over the weekend. It was too abrupt, but anticipated somehow. He was the last of the grandparents that I have; and in particular, he may be the more characteristically indirect role models. A practical professional, a learned disciplinarian and most of all, a distinguished patriarch all throughout.
Being the established dentist that he was, he inspired his family to prioritize education primarily. He knew that he came from a well-off clan but that didn’t stop him from earning a degree and a stable source of living. He was a very well-organized practitioner and knows the value of hard-earned wealth. His children are testament to that. Least to say, Daddy Lolo was a gifted and clever individual.
As a parent, there is no doubt that he was the strict one. Well, for one, as a father raising nine children he knew very well how to balance and direct each of his children’s lives to the best they can possibly move. In the eyes of his grandchildren however, he exhibited a certain type of aura that was very reserved and almost non-verbal. Even so, he made sure that he did what he can to attend to all of his twenty-one grandchildren and a handful of great grandchildren. His method of letting us know where to go was not commanding but it was effective.
Lolo may have been the timid kind of grandfather but he sure did have his ways of showing us he cared. My memories of him are at most few but those are signature. I recall he was a great violinist in his time and at one time he did say he did play (It was then validated that we are a family of musicians). I remember his stories of how he grew up in our neighborhood in Tondo riding horses along the used-to-be clear grounds of the estero. And of course, his yearly Christmas queue of kids he handed money to.
He clearly was a patriarch to his kin and an efficient catalyst that held these branches together. Reunions will sure be slightly different now that he passed. One thing’s for sure, I – and I’m sure most of my relatives would agree – consider him as a brilliant role model when it comes to keeping your ideologies and practical thinking closely working together. That’s definitely how I live my life now.
Here’s to you, Daddy Lolo!
This lazy afternoon I decided to organize my music playlist when I browsed through my Carpenters collection. I was looking for a list of all of their singles so that I can add them to my ipod. One thing lead to another and I caught myself watching the 90-minute E! True Hollywood story of Karen Carpenter on YouTube. I have revisited her life for that moment. When I was 7, I remember there was this movie shown in RPN titled "The Karen Carpenter Story". It was my first exposure to her music; though I only caught a few segments of the film. My Mom listens to them a lot and they were arguably very popular in here - as I've experienced during family get-togethers. I've also read a fictitious horror account from the local komiks about her disorder and eventual death. Throughout high school I've listened to an array of cassette tapes of her recordings. In 2005, I have read a bunch of articles about her death primarily, as I enjoy reading musical artists' biographies.It is not very difficult to like their music and I wouldn't elaborate on it. All I can say is that she is one of the best interpreters in the whole music industry. Bar none. It was a terrible loss as well. It was too bad that she died on my birth year, I guess that explains the affinity. I just wanted to honor her legacy through this and continue patronizing her music.
NOT.
I won't bother.
Let me just say:
GET RID OF THE FRIGGING MOSH PIT!!!
Seriously, everytime I see those tween girls do the Kumbayah armwave, I feel like gorging my eyes out with a fork.
No -- change 'my' to David Archuleta's and 'fork' with bolo.
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