The Pumpkin Dream

To see a pumpkin in your dream implies openness and receptiveness to new ideas and experiences. A pumpkin is also symbolic of the female sexuality. Alternately, it may relate to the popular fairy tale of Cinderella where a carriage turns back into a pumpkin. In this regard, it may represent some situation in which time is running out.

The comfort room was indeed a comfort for my vanity and me. I went in and out of every restroom found in the campus as often as was possible. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, to make sure it’ll linger in every corridor I walked. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

As I walked through the hallway, a meddlesome pack of rowdy boys kept on making noise and hooting like wild monkeys.

“Woah, Nell’s coming!”

“Hurry, here she comes!”

“Sexy chick . . . Whew!”

“Yeah, dude!”

“Man, smells so sweet!”

I strut my walk, swayed my hips, my intoxicating fragrance oozing for them to inhale and bewilder their masculine imaginations. They followed me, intentionally bumping into each other, though pretending otherwise as if our meeting was just mere coincidence. However, my vanity and I knows better. I flirted like a butterfly finding its mate. Instinctively, my Pheromones were enough to entice these sexual swarms into the cavities of my hive, or were I the one victimized by circumstances?

After school hours, I waited for Uncle Ton to fetch me. On his motor scooter, we rode the streets, and again, by some unfortunate turn of events, I encountered the jeering rascals I have mentioned before.

“Nell!”

It was my cousin Claire, who called. She was with those raucous men. I didn’t know she’s acquainted with the monkeys. It’s kinda weird, but from this distance, I think I heard someone from the group asked her, “Is she already married? That her husband?”

Pish. Do I look like a jade to them already? They’re unbelievable—considering how pretty I look! Of course, I’m not ashamed to say that in the least. It is a fact.

“No! That’s not her husband, it’s our Uncle.”

Uncle Ton dropped me then and there. Claire approached me, and following her was a man I fairly recognized.

“Nell, this is Klein. “

“Oh, hi!” I remember him way back in college. He was Claire’s classmate and was 3 years my senior.

“He wants to talk with you. Something he needs to tell you.”

By that, Klein shyly smiled, but still managed to look at me straight in the eyes with rather sincere intentions. We led ourselves into an amusement park. By the entrance was my mother. She was smiling as if knowing who Klein was and his purpose with me, though they haven’t even met yet. Throughout the time we were with Claire, she nagged Klein nonstop to tell me whatever it was he needed to tell me.

“Not now, we’ll save it later.”

Ah! He wanted to speak with me in private, which I found very flattering—a man saving his words just for me—and only for me!

“Woah! Pumpkin trees?!” I was totally amazed when we passed by a row of Pumpkin trees.

“Looks like it, and real Pumpkin trees, I guess,” he was amazed just the same.

“Oh My! Klein, the pumpkins have faces!” I pointed at the huge trees with large orange gourds hanging on each bough.

“Hah! Like Jack-O-Lanterns . . . Aww! What the—”

Before I could turn to him, a hard thing hit me, “Ouch!” To my astonishment, the Pumpkins were hurling themselves at Klein and me.

“Ow! Don’t worry, Nell! I can handle these feisty Jack-O-Lanterns! Hehe,” he smiled at the possible heroic deed. Whilst Klein was trying to protect me by willingly catching every Pumpkin that fell, I did my best to avoid them. I didn’t need to bother myself of catching those crazy bigger-than-my-head Jack-O-Lanterns. As the hurling Pumpkins took pleasure in exhausting our energies, both of us enjoyed the magical weirdness of that afternoon.

A certain game at the amusement park caught my cousin’s attention. She busied herself together with the gamekeeper, and whatever the game was, I had no idea.

Klein grinned. We felt a surge of hope and excitement. We couldn’t wait to flee from my cousin’s company and finally have our lone time together.

“Claire, Nell and I’ll be strolling around. Are you coming with us?”

“I’m okay here . . . I’ll see you two later.”

“So, shall we go?”

I nodded in accord. We were in a merry mood, everything felt warm, light and carefree. Neither of us was too frugal of smiles and laughs—a cheerful pair of youth. Later, we stopped by an area for restaurants, UK’s, cafes, souvenir shops, and other business stalls. We found a nice café to have some snack, and on a small roundtable for two, we sat facing each other.

“You’re really funny, Nell. You never change.”

“Funny or crazy?”

“A doze of both, maybe.”

I laughed, “Or too much of the latter?” I puckered and puffed my cheeks like a fish.

“That’s cute, Nelly.”

“Ooh, you find being crazy cute, eh? That’s dangerous. Tsk tsk!”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re risking yourself to the hazard of a potential contagion.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You might get it, too, you know.”

Klein laughed at my childlike logic. “I trained once in a psychiatric ward, Nell. Obviously, I’m still sane, am I not?”

“I’m not your typical psycho patient, sir.”

“Of course, you’re not. Actually, you’re—should I say worse? Or better?”

I frowned.

“You’re waaaay better. They’re not as pretty, as smart and as funny as you.”

I beamed. He winked at the reaction.

“But . . .”

Now, I glowered, “Yes?”

“But . . . you’re worse in a special way.”

I tossed my head on the side.

“Your craziness gets me hooked, and I feel like I would want to bear with you for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, talks,” I beamed again.

“I’m being honest here, I’m not just flattering you.”

“Ha-ha! I appreciate the compliment, sir . . . So, how’s life by the way?”

“I’m working in a hospital in the city. A little busy, and I’m doing night shift lately. I’m fine with my current job, but not as fun as being in school.”

“That’s also why I’m still stuck with our dear Alma Mater . . . can’t get enough of Mr. President, FMS, you see.”

He chuckled, “Mr. President, FMS, huh? Have you been rummaging his office lately?”

“Oh. No! I wouldn’t ever dare do that! I’m only a Hallway Celebrity!” I posed for an imaginary photo shoot.

“Ha-ha! I can still remember you were that bubbly, charming young woman at school, either always deep in lively conversations with people, or running through the hallways greeting and waving at familiar faces—or whomever you encounter.”

“Weh? That’s a lie! Was I that disruptive to classes?”

He chuckled, “You were quite amusing.”

“What can I do, maybe I’ll always be a child.”

“A child at heart, huh? Very adorable.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Aye, Nell . . . and that’s why I like you.”

I went speechless. Stunned, I stared at him in disbelief.

“I have always liked you, Nell.”

A little smile curved my lips. “Klein!” in vain, I tried to deny what I’ve just heard.

“I find you pretty and very interesting.”

“You do?” I asked half-pleased, half-mockingly.

He nodded, “I do. Nell, and I want to know you better.”

To know me better. What good is there to know about me? He is sincerely asking for it. I now he sees something in me I never saw myself, and of which I always feared to discover.

“. . . and how it is to be with your company.”

I could only smile.

“People say that love is in the air. Until now, I’m still breathing. Yet I’m still single.” Sighs.

The beautiful face in the mirror looked weary. Her eyes may be in colorful shades, her full red lips parted, her cheeks rouged to blush like a shy little girl of seven, but the hollows of her eyes defied the theatrical appearance she tried to portray.

“Maybe they’ll look good in violet contacts. I should get a pair one day.”

Vanity and I left our “comfort” room and made our way to the busy hallway, my Halliwood Walk of Fame, as what I personally call it.

“Nell Honey!”

“Honey Bee! I missed you so much!” we kissed each other’s cheeks. Her name’s Beryl, my beautiful and ever loyal bff. Our friendship started during our first year in college, we were classmates and we never expected we’d be this close after just a year. I was the playful youth, and she was the mother-like nymph. If I was Vanity, she was Lust. If I was Avarice, she was Gluttony. The two of us, I would call “The Sin Sisters”. We shared the same values in life: to be beautiful, to be desired, to own, to indulge. But Honey Bee was better a sinner than me, I the worst. In reality, she is always better, and I accept it though bitterly because I know a credible and honest witness to our comparison. The Great Mirror who, like the witch in Snow White, shows to me who truly the fairest is.

I loved Beryl, too much than to stain our friendship with my vulnerability. She understands me when I couldn’t understand myself, and she accepted me despite and in spite of my demented mental state.

“The other girls are in the garden, they miss you!” she held my hands and led me to where our friends are. As was usual, we had our bonding session in the garden; sharing about the latest news on our daily romances, family issues, beauty secrets, and all those juicy gossips about other people.

“He asked me out! How about you, Nell?’

“Huh, me? Duh, I’d rather be with you guys, than be with them guys!”

“That’s sweet Nelly Honey!”

“Of course Honey Bee. My friends always come first.”

In my head, I recited my favorite friendship lyric:

My Friends comes first. yes, they could still be life's worst.

We would laugh, play silly stuff

But, when my girlfriends get played, I'm gonna slit the player's throat.

When my boyfriends get dumped, I'm gonna run trim out her lashes.

Men won't have me better than my friends,

they are no good, compared to my bestfriends.

Boy, you may have me, but, when worse comes to worst,

My friends comes first!!!

“When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

“Three years ago? Uh—no, I never had one. I never considered those past fling partners to be my boyfriends.”

“But you called them boyfriends, anyway?”

“Fling partners they better be called.”

“You don’t have any plans of looking for a new one soon?”

Darn. I always have. What a stupid question.

“You see, Nell prefers one-night stands and multiple partners.”

“Ha-ha. You got me there, Joan.”

“Better be careful, Nell Honey.”

“Oh, yeah, I never forgot. Don’t worry Beryl. Ha-ha!”

“Why what’s that?”

“For everybody’s knowledge, Nell has a Pledge of Purity. Right, Nell Honey?”

I grinned.

“Wow, we didn’t know staying virgin’s still in. ‘till when d’you intend to keep it, then?”

”Until her 20th birthday.”

They all guffawed at the idea. How can I blame them? They’re all too stupid not to understand the importance of the pledge. Pitiful, they’re already too stained that what they can only do is to mock my difference from them. Except Honey Bee. Though Beryl was one of those “experienced” young women, I never felt any disgust for her. Maybe because we’ve been friends for years now, or because of the fact that she only gives herself to a man she loves, no matter how many they had been. Thus, she earned my respect. Unlike me, I engaged myself to making out with strangers, shamelessly flirting with men and leaving them all hanging in the air at the end. And I thought I was acting the right way all along. I was wrong. I saw myself as something to be desired, to be used, to be eaten away by lust, like a host so to purge out love and affection from her parasites. Like the bloodsucking mosquitoes, who loved to feast on me—literally. Scientifically speaking, my delicious Pheromones and high level of estrogen were actually the culprits as to why the male species or the mosquitoes chose to devour me. Love. Lust. They go hand in hand don’t they? But, whichever, I want them both—fiercely.

“Gawd, you’re near!”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t wait!”

“Say that again, Nell! You think it’s that simple?”

“Hush, Beryl, I’m joking.”

“I thought you’re going to do it with a total stranger?” Joan was the one to ask.

“Yup, either that or—“

“She’ll do it with the man who loves her.” Beryl finished for me.

“But you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Ouch. You need not to say that.

“Don’t worry Nelly Honey. The right guy will come, maybe sooner than you expected.”

“I know Honey Bee. Anyway, I’m not the only one feeling bad of not finding my man yet. I’m sure he’s feeling just as bad as I am of not finding me soon either.”

“He absolutely is!”

I wonder if he really is getting impatient of not meeting me yet. Then, I also wonder if “he” really does exist for me.

“Excuse me.” I headed for the comfort room for another vanity check. I looked through each wide mirror and saw myself, my make-up getting smudgy again. For numerous times I couldn’t even count, I retouched. I fixed my coif and outfit; sprayed my perfume excessively that I wrinkled my nose from the strong scent, so to let it linger in the air as I pass by. Then, I flashed my most alluring smile at the beautiful reflection.

“People say that love is in the air. No wonder I’m suffocating, like inhaling carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. Maybe that’s why I’m still single, I have to experience love the other way around.”

Cinderella, Cinderella. Lucky you, you rode a beautiful carriage made of pumpkin, and still found your prince charming. Nelly, Nelly. Pumpkins are already hurling themselves at you, isn’t that demanding? Good thing he's there to catch those crazy Jack-O-Lanterns for you.

Bah! Fairy tale talks. I am already a woman in physique, yet a child still at heart...

And that’s why I like you, Nell.

I could only smile.

Seek the Sublime

I see my soul.

I, Aurora Celaestis, The Heavenly Light,

Beautiful and Magnificent,

Devoid of any vicious blight.

I see my future.

Clear as a Diamond crystal.

Sturdy as the hardest Stone.

The future lies ahead of me,

Vivid, certain, and strong.

No stopping, ever pursuing,

It's my destiny, my life.

To soar with fervent zeal,

Try, fail, and try once more

Failure is my twin.

Success my shadow.

After every darkness or shade,

To fail, maybe.

After every light in space,

To succeed, I see.

No stopping ever pursuing,

I am my destiny, my life.

The universe is my entity,

Perfect and grand.

Tomorrow is infinity.

Seek the sublime.

The Lotto Dealer

The bulb on the front door of the house flickered as it tried to light up the middle of the darkening streets. Inside, the television buzzed tirelessly and the dishes and steel clinked as they were being washed clean. The forty-six year old man of the house, Mr. Antonio Dimawili, sat comfortably with one leg elevated on the arm of his favorite couch in front of the television. The couch was moved out from its proper place and was now positioned too close to the TV set. Behind him on a long couch beside the front door sat his twenty-five year old son, Antony. The young man was holding a cell phone on one hand, but both of them were intently concentrating on the war-movie as it reached its climax.

There was a knock on the door. Both men jumped, looking distracted by the sudden interruption.

“Go get the door,” Antonio ordered, waving a hand which held the remote control.

Antony went to the door and turned the knob open.

“Good evening Tony,” a big-busted middle-aged woman greeted him.

“Good evening too, Nang Dorin.”

“Aba! Dorin, come in! Come in!” Antonio’s loud voice echoed inside the tiny town house. His body was now turned to the woman. Antony closed the door behind them when the woman was finally inside. Dorin sat beside the young man on the long couch. She pulled open the zipper of her belt-bag and took out a small notebook, a stub of Lotto receipts and a ball pen.

“Cory!” Antonio called for his daughter who was busy washing dishes in the kitchen.

“Yes Papang?!” she called back. Cory turned off the faucet and wiped her soaped-wet hands

with a clean towel hanging on the refrigerator’s handle. She fixed her shoulder-length hair,

pulled a lock at the back of her ear, and hurried to the living room.

“Yes Papang? What is it?”

“Where’s your Mamang?”

She didn’t answer yet when she saw Dorin sitting beside her older brother. She sighed and pouted her lips in disapproval. She gestured to their backyard, “. . . feeding the dogs outside.”

“Tell her Dorin’s here.”

She rolled her eyes, and scratched her neck, “Okay, Pang.”

Cory went outside to the backyard. She saw her mother pouring food into a worn out gallon-sized empty bucket of ice cream. Flanking her were two white spaniels, with grimy coats you would mistake these mutts as rags. Mrs. Thalia Dimawili's a couple of years younger than her husband. Her hair was tightly pinned into a bun, was slightly skinny, and had an angular and wearied face.

“Nang Dorin’s here, Mamang,” Cory sneered at the name when Thalia bent down quickly to get the empty bowl.

“Oh, Dorin! I almost forgot!” She handed the empty bowl to her daughter then spoke with a pressured tone, “bring this inside the house, dear . . . and don’t forget to lock the backdoor, okay?”

Thalia didn’t wait for a reply, and hurried inside the house. In the living room, Antonio and Dorin were talking about a constant player of Mahjong who just won eighty thousand pesos in the First-Two-Digit Lotto draw last week. Both turned their heads toward Thalia. Dorin spoke in excitement, “Taling, we were just talking about Fe Lamangan! Have you heard about the latest buzz on her?”

“Who? That shrewd Mahjong player at Maurine’s?”

“Yes! Well, I met her kumare while I was walking along Alunan Avenue this afternoon, and she told me that Fe Lamangan won the draw last week . . . Eighty thousand pesos,” Dorin leaned forward as she spoke.

Thalia covered her mouth, and her eyes widened, “No kidding! Eighty thousand?! What were

her numbers?”

“She wagered in the First-Two-Digit Lotto draw, 26 and 18 for two hundred pesos. Luckily, her numbers were drawn that day!”

“Wow, she’s indeed lucky, that gambler of a widow!”

“Hey, Taling, told’ya you should’ve wagered on 26,” Antonio butt in.

“The taga-suma gave me the numbers 06, and 23. The numbers were at least a bit closer to 26,” His wife replied. Her husband just snickered, still focused on the TV screen.

Dorin flipped a page of her lotto receipt stubs. Hastily, Thalia sat between Dorin and Antony. She said, “I think I’ll go with 15-41 and 02-37, thirty pesos for each, First-Two. And . . . 08 for fifty pesos, Last-Two.”

Antonio added, “11 and 14 for fifty pesos each, that’s for Last-Two-Digit draw.”

The Lotto dealer wrote down Antonio and Thalia’s numbers on one receipt.

“Okay, that’s all. Can I pay you tomorrow?” said Thalia.

“Uh—sure, but you still got a balance of two hundred fifty pesos, though— ”

“I’ll also pay you that tomorrow, don’t worry Dorin,” Thalia said, a little annoyed by the reminder of her debt. Dorin slid her things back inside her belt-bag, “I’ll just bring these in the Lotto outlet in KCC tomorrow. Well then, I’ll be going.”

Both of the women stood up, then Dorin bade them goodbye. Antonio turned to her and did the same. When she was finally gone, Thalia sat beside her son on the long couch. Cory came to join the rest of her family in the living room, and then told her mother she needed three hundred pesos to pay to a school organization tomorrow.

“Your Papang gave you five hundred pesos last week. Don’t tell me you spent them all?” Mrs. Dimawili said.

“Huh! That was really intended for that week only!” Cory argued. The men were just silent, still focused on the movie they’re watching.

“Listen Cory, I only have five hundred pesos left in my wallet, and I can give you three-fifths of it if you’d want a hunger strike for the next seven days.”

Cory groaned. “Fine. I understand that that big-busted parasite will be sucking your wallet again tomorrow . . . C’mon, when was the last time you ever won? Ten years ago?” she paused to heave a sigh, “Sweet dreams!” She turned away and went to her room. Mrs. Dimawili raised both hands and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

The movie was finally at its end, so Antonio spoke, “Ah, it’s finished. Shall we check what’s drawn in the Lotto tonight?” He changed the channel.

The lotto show has already started. Antonio and Thalia Dimawili were silent as they waited for the 45-ball jackpot draw to begin. Antony yawned beside her and started texting on his cell phone, then after a few boring minutes he went to his bedroom and slept. The jackpot draw was about to begin, where the winning First-Two-Digit and Last-Two-Digit numbers were based. Thalia rubbed her eyes and squinted as she focused on the TV. The balls were now being rambled, and then drawn one by one in respective order. 15—came the first ball.

Thalia gasped, it was hers! If her 41 would be drawn, she’d win almost fifteen thousand pesos. Another ball was drawn—the number . . . 13.

“No! That was so close!” Thalia exclaimed.

“Well, let’s see the Last-Two-Digit draw,” Antonio said.

They waited for the Last-Two-Digit ball to be drawn . . . And the last digit for today’s ramble lotto is . . . the number two-zero. None of their numbers were drawn. Thalia cocked her head back and groaned under her breath, “Ah! What a waste, Antonio! Such a waste I tell you!”

“It seems that luck’s not on our side tonight, Taling. We’ll try again . . . maybe tomorrow— ”

“My number will be drawn next time and we’ll get rich. We’ll start a business and get very rich!”

Antonio didn’t say anything but Thalia continued talking about how she’ll receive the big

amount of money if her numbers would be drawn in the Lotto next time, her future plans for her children and for themselves.

The next day, Dorin visited the Dimawili residence again. Thalia wagered, and this time with a bigger amount of money. Unfortunately, as always, her numbers were not drawn in the Lotto.

When she finally realized the amount her debts to the Lotto dealer had surmounted, she began to panic. She worried how she will be able to pay Dorin since she spent almost the family’s entire budget now. Her husband was dismissed from work a month ago, she couldn’t earn enough to pay for her debts and provide her family’s needs on her own. Thalia thought she couldn’t face Dorin now, she would hide and her family would help her.

“If Dorin ever comes again, tell her I’m out or I had an emergency or anything! Just don’t let her know I’m home, do you understand—both of you?” her teeth clenched in anxiety and fear as she spoke to her children.

The next time Dorin came, the children followed what their mother ordered, until the Lotto dealer was now trying to demand Thalia’s presence and that she should pay her debts.

“Where’s Taling your mother?! I know you’re hiding her somewhere! She has to pay her debts or I’ll call the police!”

“We don’t know Nang Dorin, she never returned since two weeks ago,” Antony lied.

The visits became more frequent, in the morning and in the afternoon, and the Dimawili residence would sometimes lock all their doors and never turned on their lights even at night to avoid people, especially Dorin. Thalia never left the house for the next two months, for fear of being caught by neighbors or worse, by the police.

One cold early morning, the backdoor of the house stood ajar, and the bulb flickered as it dwindled into darkness. The streets snoozed in silence, and only a sound of dripping water echoed within the tiny residence of Mr. Antonio Dimawili.

........................................This was written for a Creative Writing class (LIT 143) during the first semester of my fourth year in college.

Travelogue: Tara! Go na! Part I

I finally bid my farewell to the second semester of school year 2008-2009! How devastated I was! The farewell reminded me that I'll now be spending my last year in college, not just goodbye to my dear alma mater despite my frequent complaints about tuition fee increases, terror teachers, and loads of requirements only to be passed on the same deadlines (But we always pass them an hour or several or a day or a week after the said deadline...hehehe), I'll also be kissing my dearest friends adieu later on!

Now here comes the Holy Week! Me and the people at home always anticipate this date! hahah! Not because of it's religious history, but because we see this a good chance to bond and welcome with enjoyment the incoming summer. For some consecutive summers already, we've been having a trip to places, like the beaches and resorts, parks, restaurants, farms and other amazing places.

Our destination this Summer of 2009 is Tarragona, Davao Oriental! It's actually a small town by the coast in the south-east part of mindanao (Philippines). Together with my kuya Toto, his wife ate Isay, their three kids Issa, Dani, and Gian, my nephews ate Kat, Aron, Joshua, my another sis-in-law ate Mylene and her kids JV, Levy, Yat-yat, and Lenard we travelled from my beloved hometown Tupi, South Cotabato to Davao City. We left just after the sunrise and took us four hous before reaching Davao City; we stayed for lunch at Mapayo's residence, ate Isay's home sweet home. We reached Tarragona in about four hours from Davao City proper. We were welcomed by delicious and excellent foods prepared by ate Isay's Tiya, where we will stay until easter sunday.

So here I am! The beach was actually privately owned by some of ate Isay's close relatives so we're free to bathe there anytime! hehehehe...And the beach was pretty cool and exciting! some kilometers away from the main house was a rocky beach with huge corals that looked like outgrown rocks creating tiny and larger pools within the ocean. The sea don't even smell of brine! I really loved the view, the sound of the waves, and the fresh wind blowing from the open pacific.

Lost, staring at the horizon, I shall return! And a drawing of my mama on the sand...wahahahaha!

The kids really enjoyed the Holy Week at Tarragona. None of them really showed hesitance in bathing in the wild beach, even if the waves were a feet or more bigger than them!

Kiddies up-close, Lenard and Jat-jat, eyes red and bulged because of the salty sea...

Ate Mylene attacked by the waves! Cover with coconut leaves!

We also had nightlife though we're in some kind of a remote area in the peaceful community of Davao Oriental. See below, we also made bonfires for two nights and had fun by the seashore. there was even a time when we decided to walk miles along the shore under a dark starless night sky! We passed by a nearby public cemetery which gave us goosebumps, wrapping us in icy cold fear and shivers. After reaching the other side of the island, we went back still intact and hurried when raindrops started to fall from the sable sky. Each one ran, leaving deep footprints before me. I didn't bother to hurry since I have with me a towel to cover my head. It was an unforgettable experience, walking alone under the night sky along the seashore. Waves crashing loud and roaring, the rain pouring heavy and the wind so strong pushing me against the way. For a moment, it felt dark and scary, I thought maybe it was just because of the heavy rain that blurred my eyesight as tiny figures vanish one by one from my view. Then, I realized I wasn't seeing anything else now but my own feet sinking deeply into the soft black carpet. There was no light in sight, the town had a black out! Creepy things started to appear in my mind, like a ghost or a monster would come dragging me to his lair and rip my skin and crunch my head, devouring my whole body. Or maybe a beautiful and sexy man would abduct me, put me in his bangka and bring me to his nice little hut in another island and he would make love to me throughout the night...nahhh...maybe that would be an alien or a syokoy disguised as a handsome human male specie...hahahaha...

There! I saw something flicker from a distant. The sight of it relieved me, as if hope was then taken from me and now coming back like it heard me calling it's name.thank God we made a bonfire! Finally, it helped me find the correct place, or I may be truly lost in that unfamiliar area, wandering aimlessly in the darkness! Whew..so I'm finally back home...that simple experience strengthen my hope to survive and believe in life. Just continue walking, even in darkness, just believe and don't lose your trust.

Bonfire at night by the beach. From left to right: Aaron Byrne, Maria Isabella, Kinjie, and Ate Mylene.

Me and ate Kat...

I'll be posting for the Part 2 of this travelogue "Tara! Go na!" soon...hehehe..

Ciao for now!..........

Isang Piso, Isang Libo

Nakakapagod magsulat at tinatamad na akong gamitin and salitang ingles. Wala akong balak maging isang manunulat at ni minsan hindi ko binalak na maging isa. Pero may isa akong pangarap na kahit anong daan man ang nilakad ko, saan man ako dalhin ng buhay, sino man ang makilala ko, at anu man ang mangyari sa 'kin, iisa at natatangi ang patutunguhan ng alin man sa mga desisyon ko. Ayun ay ang pangarap kong maging pinakamagaling na cartoonist sa buong mundo, na kung isalin ko sa ingles, na madalas mong makikita na nakasulat o nakadikit sa aking mga gamit: "The Greatest Cartoonist in The World". Masasabi mong ang taas-taas ng aking pinapangarap, kung iyong iisipin, maaaring imposible ring mangyari. Malakas man ang loob ko, tawagin mo man akong makapal ang mukha at walang hiyang magsabi na magaling ako, wala kang pakialam. Ano ba ang alam mo sa akin? Ang pangalan ko? Ang tirahan ko? Ang edad ko? Ano ngayon? Wala ka paring pakialam dahil hindi mo ako lubusang kilala. Siguro kailangan mo pa akong paembistigahan, pwede mo ring lapitan ang isang manghuhula, pero baka naman ikaw'y lolokohin din lang. Kaya mas makakabuti siguro ay hayaan mo nalang akong managinip nang nakapikit o nakadilat, kahit madalas eh gising na gising na nakatunganga sa ulap. Alam mo ba, ipinagmamalaki ko na puno ako ng pangarap, kahit ang laki at mukhang imposible, klaro naman at matayog. Eh ikaw, may pangarap ka ba sa buhay? Hindi mo ba alam na ang dami din diyan na walang kamalay-malay kung ano ba talaga ang papel nila sa mundo. Walang ka ideya-ideya sa kung ano man ang talagang gusto nilang mangyari sa kanilang buhay. Sa madaling salita, mga taong hindi alam ano ba ang pangarap nila. Nakakalungkot ang sitwasyong ito:

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A: "Alam mo B, may pangarap ako!"

B: "Ano yon A?"

A: "Pangarap kong maging isang sikat na ballerina balang araw!"

B: "Wow...Talaga A? Ang ganda naman ng pangarap mo..Sigurado akon makakamit mo yan, magaling ka naman kasi eh.."

A: "Hehehe...hindi naman sa ganoon. Eh ikaw?"

B: "Ha? Ako?"

A: "Oo..Anong pangarap mo?"

B: "Pangarap ko? Uhhmm....Teka, iisipin ko pa.."

A: "Madami ka bang pangarap? At napapaisip ka pa?"

B: "Hindi. Ang totoo niyan, wala akong maisip na talagang pangarap ko. Ang ibig kong sabihin parang hindi ko alam kung ano talagang gusto ko. Oo, madami akong gusto pero hindi katulad ng sa iyo. Nakakainggit ka nga eh at mayroon ka talagang natatanging pangarap, yung talagang gustong gusto mo. Sana ako rin."

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Kung lahat tayo ay may sariling pangarap, bakit merong iba na napapaisip pa pagtinanong kung ano ang pangarap nila? Hindi ba mahalaga ang ating mga ninanais? Kung nag-aalala ka na baka hindi matutupad o sa tingin mo'y hindi mo makakayang abutin ang mga ambisyon mo sa buhay, nagkakamali ka! Ang lahat ng nagtatagumpay ay hindi aksidente, hindi produkto ng kapalaran at ng sitwasyon. Sila ay produkto ng hinubog nilang imahe sa kanilang sarili. Ang tagumpay ay nagsisimula sa isang munting pangarap, sinundan ng positibong aksyon, ginawa ng matinding pagpupursige at pasensya, at pinatibay ng malakas na paniniwala at dedikasyon.
At tandaan mo, HINDI MABUBUO ANG ISANG LIBO KUNG WALA NI ISANG PISO.
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Tao din sila, katulad mo, katulad ko. Anong pinagkaiba? Nasa unahan sila, ikaw'y nasa hulihan pa..
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Kung tingin mo'y kaya mo, gawin mo...

Soul Mate

People are always trying to find for that person who they will be sharing their life forever. Some are so eager and desperate, while to some, it comes so easy, in just a blink of an eye, the person is already infront of you.



It has been always told to almost everybody, that there is a soul mate for everyone. But is it really true? How is it that many are getting divorced, separated, left alone by those they love?



There is no such thing as soul mate. It is just a notion that keeps everybody hoping for something false and uncertain. Those people who keep on saying that there is indeed a soul mate for everyone is a fool, a hoax, and a damned unmerciful, illogical person. By believing there exist a soul mate just gives us expectations, which are not good, since we will be expecting for uncertain things, which later on becomes dissapointment and discouragement. Such belief on this leads us to unhappiness. Many are inferior, insecure and in vain hopeless. The idea of a soul mate would heighten their feelings more, how cruel the word will be to them, how ruthless the sayer are to them.



Soul mates are nothing but mere fantasy and imagination. To those who believe in this, think again, because everything in this world: people, feelings, things, relationships, are impermanent.

StarLit Sky

Under a black starlit sky, I was alone and depressed. I looked up to heaven and glimpsed upon a tiny star and thought it told me something...

Look at the stars. They're like humans here on land. Some shine brightly; some shine the brightest; and some hide behind darkness. There are great men, there are just men, and there are even men of no identity. I am one of the tiny dots in the sky, but I have a color different from the rest of them. though I may be small, odd-colored and my light is dull; you will see sooner or later, that star with the oddest color will shine the brightest from all the rest. Look at them, look at me, look up at all of us, and be hopeful. At first, you may be just a tiny dot in the universe, or maybe nothing at all! But...Believe in yourself...In what you can do, and in what you can be...Be the greatest of who you are, then, you can shine brightly like the rest us, or better yet, the brightest among the stars and inspire mankind...