Showing posts with label My Thoughts - Randomness and Ramblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Thoughts - Randomness and Ramblings. Show all posts

Sunday, September 28, 2008

Five Tickets

Give yourself five tickets to be foolish, but you should use them wisely.

It's quite interesting how we constantly use the excuse that we're only human, when we rarely forgive ourselves for being human.

Love and sex are two aspects of our lives where we are most human. When we love, when we need love, when we want lovin', these are the times when we seem incapable of thinking straight. These are the times when we cannot seem to control our urges. We find ourselves seeing more, hearing more, feeling more. And, even when our minds tell us to do otherwise, we can't seem to find the willpower to do what our minds tell us. Then, we get burned. Then we chastise ourselves for being stupid. We hate ourselves because we already knew what was going to happen. We punish ourselves with insecurity and guilt.

I knew...

I knew that sitting at the lobby of that hotel room was not only wrong, it would lead to pain and heartache. It took me a year to come to terms with that. It took me even longer to let go of the feelings that formed that night. It wasn't that I held hope that it could happen, because it was not something I wanted to happen. It was because I could not forgive myself for what happened, what I allowed myself to feel.

My beloved, do not make the same mistake. We are logical people. We are allowed to make mistakes because we are not perfect. It is not that one mistake that ruins lives, it is living in the shadow of that mistake that brings us to ruin.

Trying to tell me something, CareerPath.com?

I don't know what to say.... really, I don't.
  • Best Occupational Category

    You're a CREATOR

    Key Words:
    Nonconforming, Impulsive, Expressive, Romantic, Intuitive, Sensitive, and Emotional

    These original types place a high value on aesthetic qualities and have a great need for self-expression. They enjoy working independently, being creative, using their imagination, and constantly learning something new. Fields of interest are art, drama, music, and writing or places where they can express, assemble, or implement creative ideas.

    CREATOR OCCUPATIONS
    Suggested careers are Advertising Executive, Architect, Web Designer, Creative Director, Public Relations, Fine or Commercial Artist, Interior Decorator, Lawyer, Librarian, Musician, Reporter, Art Teacher, Broadcaster, Technical Writer, English Teacher, Architect, Photographer, Medical Illustrator, Corporate Trainer, Author, Editor, Landscape Architect, Exhibit Builder, and Package Designer.

    CREATOR WORKPLACES
    Consider workplaces where you can create and improve beauty and aesthetic qualities. Unstructured, flexible organizations that allow self-expression work best with your free-spirited nature.

    Suggested Creator workplaces are advertising, public relations, and interior decorating firms; artistic studios, theaters and concert halls; institutions that teach crafts, universities, music, and dance schools. Other workplaces to consider are art institutes, museums, libraries, and galleries.

  • 2nd Best Occupational Category

    You're an ORGANIZER

    Key Words:
    Self-Control, Practical, Self-Contained, Orderly, Systematic, Precise, and Accurate These conservative appearing, plotting-types enjoy organizing, data systems, accounting, detail, and accuracy. They often enjoy mathematics and data management activities such as accounting and investment management. Persistence and patience allows them to do detailed paperwork, operate office machines, write business reports, and make charts and graphs.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Two Steps and Two Seconds

Does it matter how far I go
when I'll always be two steps behind you?
Does it matter how well I do
when I do things two seconds after you?
Does it matter how high I reach
when I'll always be covered by your shadow?
And why would it matter if I sped up,
when I'll always be far too slow?

Screw you, LiNa@Jobstreet

To keep a long story short, is it too much to ask for a job that has something to do with your field of study?! I did not slave away for six and a half years in BS Applied Physics to become a call center agent, secretary, administrative assistant, tech support, etc. etc.

People who first find out about my course say, "Ah... there are many opportunities in Physics" (provided they don't say, "O? What's that?"). Well, I'm not seeing opportunities anywhere. There are opportunities for engineers, for geologists, for biologists, and chemists. But Physicists?

I don't know... Maybe I'm not looking hard enough. Maybe I'm just being an idiot. Or maybe my pride is getting in the way of employment. I really don't know. I'm from UP, from Pisay, even, everyone else says doors should be opening up for me left and right.

I hate this.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

What a friend!!! *insert sarcasm*

I'm actually talking about myself.

"It's just that [that person] acts like [that person] has an EQ of 10."


I was evil enough to say something like that as an excuse. But, that really was the reason why we kept this really shallow secret. Well, they say if one other person knows your secret, that's one person too many; there happens to be four of us, so that's, like, four people too many or three people too many, depending on what your reference point is. (Damn Physics mindset. Go away when I'm blogging!) So, the odds of keeping this secret just dropped dramatically. So, the problem is no longer "How do we keep it?" it graduates to "Who should spill the beans?"

I volunteered, because I was the one who engineered the darn thing, to begin with. Best it come from the horse's mouth. Another person making excuses for me would make everything worse.

-

One thing people have to realize is damage control and repair are critical things in friendships. This means perfect friends aren't the people who've never hurt you, they are the people who know how to minimize the damage and assume responsibility for the repair. Unfortunately, there are many people who, when their relationship is damaged, pull as far away as possible. Not only does this make it impossible for the offender to do the repair, it also allows for the wound to fester, become infected, turn into gangrene and kill. O_O (mental note: Blog only when you're fully awake. End note.)

Heavens know how many friendships I've destroyed in this manner.

Hopefully, I won't do it again. Especially now that this person has come to help repair, or, at least put a temporary patch over the pain.

Monday, March 03, 2008

Sympathizing with Padre Damaso

These are the last lines of our P.I. 100 Noli Me Tangere play. That play turned out well because of the efforts of my groupmates. I had such an awesome team to direct. Here are some of the closing lines of the play, which was a parody of Noli and aimed to sympathize with the story's villain, Padre Damaso.

"May hustisya ba ang Diyos? Bakit niya parurusahan ang isang tao ng ganito? Hindi madaling tumanggi sa tukso. Hindi madaling magparaya sa mga umiinsulto. Akala ko ba'y mapagpatawad at mahabagin ang Diyos? Bakit hindi niya dininig ang panalangin ng isang alagad na matagal na nanilbihan sa kanya?

"At, sa pagtatapos, aking ipinaaalam sa inyong mga minamahal naming manonood na ang pagkamatay ni Padre Damaso ay bunga ng kalungkutan. Hinihiling namin sa inyong iyuko ang inyong mga ulo at ipagdasal ang kanyang kaluluwa na sana'y maligtas mula sa mga apoy ng Purgatoryo. Sapagkat nilahian man ng ulupong ang mga ganitong nilalang ng Diyos, sila pa rin ay mga tao: natutukso, nasasaktan, nagagalit, at higit sa lahat, ay nangangailangan ng inyong paguunawa."

Saturday, December 01, 2007

How Do You Fall in Love?

Someone asked me that question last night. And no, that person wasn't asking about circumstances or methods, that person was asking about how I would know if I were in love. That person wasn't asking in general, either. The question was only for me.

I had answered with a cheesy freestyle poem that I wrote right then and there. I really don't know why I bothered to put it in that way or if I subconsciously stole it from some other writer who writes cheesy freestyle love-love schmutz. I mostly got it from a line I told someone a long time ago, "If I knew the reason why I love you, then it would be easy to find a reason not to love you." In any case, my first answer to the question was this:


If I knew the "who"s of who I would fall in love with,
I would not need to pine for that person anymore
If knew the "when"s and the "where"s,
I would not need to search anymore
If I knew the "why"s;
Then I would find the reason not to, anymore
If I knew the "how"s;
I wouldn't fall in love anymore.

To put it simply, if I were to be completely honest, the only answer I would give to that person's question would be "I don't know". How do I fall in love? Like most people, I would say that my heart beats faster at the sight of the one I love. My cheeks become flushed at the mere thought of him. My mind is always filled with thoughts of him and his mere presence makes me happy. Unfortunately, these very things are also indications of an infatuation. How to differentiate love and infatuation from each other is a completely different matter, if one considers these two things different at all.


I believe that we cannot choose the people that we develop strong feelings for, whether those feelings be love or infatuation. But, regardless of this, I also believe that falling in love needs some kind of decision. Two years ago, I would have told you that the key to falling in love is "social distance" and "attraction factor" (the former being explained by my Proximity Theory of Relationships and the latter being a basic necessity of falling in love). However, I've given up putting emotions into these pretty little boxes and tying them up with neat little bows. It's just more fun to see how wonderfully chaotic and illogical feelings are.

So, leaving that tangent, we go back to the question. How do I fall in love? I don't believe in love at first sight because I don't believe we fall in love in an instant. The realization that we are strongly attracted to a person takes a while to set in, at least for me. Once it sets in, the decision to accept these feelings takes an even longer time to make. Only the decision, the transition between "I don't know how I feel..." and "I'm in love!", is seemingly instantaneous. But, like other "Eureka!" moments in our life, it is not, really.

And, falling in love is a continuing decision, in my opinion. I've fallen in love three with three men in my life, but I've fallen in love countless times. At different points in time, I find myself reevaluating how I feel, checking if I still love that person. For our relationship to be meaningful, at those moments, I decide as often as those moments come, that I am still in love.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

End of Chapter

Allow me to be sentimental for a while. I'll come up with narrations when I feel like it, later on. =p
-
Not surprisingly, it wasn't until I watched something sappy that all that had happened within the last two weeks came to coherent form in my head. It was one simple exchange:


"What time does your train leave?"

"At around 930, I think. I already have my apartment cleared out."

"Oh, is that so? So where are you going to spend the night?"

"He's staying with me for one last time... one last time..."


Suddenly, I was back at Los Banos, having dinner with my labmates. It was around 11PM, of October 24th, the just at the end of the first day of the SPP Congress. I was set to go home the next day, after lunch and the other members of SanD were asking me to stay the duration. But, when I think back, one sentence jumps out at me:


"Heto na ang huli nating pagkikita, uuwi ka pa ng maaga." (This is our last meeting and you're going home early.)


At that time, I had laughed it off as sentimental nonsense and even said that "We'll definitely see each other again". It's only now that it dawns on me that the person who said that now works and lives in Zamboanga. It's only now that I come to realize that, even if I stayed with the lab for my master's degree, the others wouldn't necessarily be doing the same. That, the next time I go back to the lab, things would be drastically different, even if the same people are there.
I remember the happiness and sense of accomplishment of the people who had graduated before me. I'm just like them, I felt those very same emotions. And, perhaps, I should have written something when I was in the height of those emotions. I know I wanted to. But, back then, I couldn't find the words. I was at a turning point, and even if time was moving at the same rate as everyone else's, I was accelerating. I was changing direction. The world was spinning so fast and I got caught in its whirlwind. The pre-defense fear and anxiety, the post-defense joy, the hectic pace of SPP preparations, I never got to savor these moments. I never got to appreciate how these things changed me.
As I laughed and joked around with my labmates, as I discussed plenary talks and future research projects with my adviser, as I silently said my farewells to an old friend, I didn't have a chance to look at myself. Then, for the first time, I realized that it looks like I grew up...
...even a little bit.

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

Warm and Cold

I read this from a friend's blog and it made me smile. I felt that it needed to be shared, so here we go.

last Monday i was going down the long flight of stairs from the train station, right smack into the heart of the busy, congested highway that is EDSA. at the bottom of the stairs i noticed this one street vendor and one taho vendor having a hurried conversation. it went something like this:

Street Vendor:
[extending a plastic containing packed lunch to the other] kunin mo na o.. (you
can get this..)

Taho Vendor: hindi na, ayos lang.. (no, it's fine..)

Street Vendor: eto naman, sige na! (come on, take it!)

Taho Vendor: [fishes out a couple of coins from his pocket and shoves it into the hand of the other guy]

Street Vendor: sus, wag na! sayo na yan. (no need. just take it, it's yours.)

at that point they were already out of my sight. i dunno if the taho vendor paid for the food that was being given to him or not. but i found myself smiling after that. i'm not aware of the set of circumstances before that scene but it's very nice to know that amidst the poverty in our country some people still care enough to share what little blessings they have. it's strange, though, that i found this display of charity among people both from the lower classes of society while those who are much more blessed choose to turn a blind eye to the plights of the less fortunate.but thanks to those two guys, i think there's still hope for us after all.

Before reading this blog entry from Donna, I heard over the news that a tricycle driver returned an envelope containing P80,000 plus a check to a lady working in a music store. Ate Letty commented on that news segment

Ate Letty: Sana maraming taong ganyan. (I wish there were a lot of people like that)

Me: Marami naman eh. Marami nga lang rin na hinde. (There are a lot of people like that. But there are also a lot of people who aren't.)

Yeah, I know, that's not the nicest thing I could have said, but I was just stating the fact.

Much earlier in the day, Ivan and I were talking over pizza. I was complaining about how expensive the simple act of producing the bound copies of our theses was. He brought up that I had yet to collect (blank) amount of cash from this guy who I couldn't even find. "Yun pa lang, sobra-sobra na para sa thesis mo" (Just that [money] is more than enough for you thesis). I told Ivan that I had long let the money go and he was telling me that I shouldn't trust people so easily (to his credit, he did say that it wasn't really "good advice", but was more practical).

The truth is, I think most people aren't cold beacuse they're heartless; most people are cold because they feel as if there is a need to be. I have the luxury to be warm and giving because I have the extra cash or time or whatever that enables me to be so. For a lot of people that I know, Ivan included, they lived to learn that every centavo they have must be put to good use and accounted for to benefit the family. When that tricycle driver comes to a rough patch, someone might tell him, "Eh ikaw naman kasi, bakit sinauli mo pa yung pera. Ngayong kailangan mo, sino'ng tutulong sayo?" (Why did you return the money? Now that you need it, who will help you?).

So what should we have done?

Monday, September 24, 2007

Searching

This is one of those entries that I wrote because I felt like someone needed it. To you who has transferred from job to job or course to course; to you who has gone through a string of unhappy relationships; and to you who constantly wanders in search for happiness, I hope this makes sense to you.

All living creatures spend their lives searching.

That is just how it was meant to be. The simplest of creatures seek out sustenance. The most primitive of plants look for the sun. Animals search for food, habitat, and mates. All things search for their niche. As the creatures become more complex, so do their needs and the things that they look for.

So why should we humans, the most complicated of God's creatures be exempt?

We humans, like our evolutionary ancestors, spend our lives searching. Beyond food and sun and habitat and mates, we look for things that are more difficult to find. We search for purpose, meaning in life, love, and even God. We shouldn't be ashamed to search when that is what is natural for us to do.

(Yeah, abbreviated. Not thinking straight... Will try to come up with something more usable when all the stuff I need to finish are finished. ^^)

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Muddy Pants and Rainy Days

I was answering another meme from Friendster when I remembered something someone from my past once said:

Everybody deserves a second chance, but a third chance? I don't think so.

I'm the type who would disagree. I don't believe in closing your heart to people. To those who know me best, it probably sounds hypocritical. I know that I tend to hide or run away from those that hurt me or scare me, but when they seek me out, I do my best to open up and learn acceptance. In short, I am always open to the possibility, even if I do make myself scarce.

-

Choosing the company of friends is like putting on your favorite pair of jeans.


While shopping for pants, Ivan once mentioned that jeans become more comfortable as they get older because the denim becomes softer and the materials "memorizes" the shape of your body. I wonder how some people can easily throw away a worn out pair of jeans. Even if I have a lot of denim jeans in my closet, there is a pair that I really like to wear. They're comfortable and always seem to fit right, even on days when I feel like my body chose to absorb all the humidity in the country and bloat me like a drowned frog. Recently, however, I realized that even my favorite pair of pants can make me feel downright uncomfortable and irritate me to no end.

Typhoon Egay had just started pulling into the area the rainclouds carried by the southwestern monsoon. Rain drenched the entire Metro and the long road from the jeepney stop to the lab was no exception. Because I knew I was in for a long a difficult day, I chose to wear my favorite pants. Unfortunately, as I walked from the jeepney stop to the lab, the hem of the legs of my pants got splashed with mud and were all grainy and wet. The sensation of damp mud-caked denim rubbing against my ankles is one of the sensations that I hate with a vengeance. Needless to say, I was in a bad mood and was seriously regretting wearing my jeans by the time I got to the lab. I wondered why I didn't choose to wear something else. In the midst of my frustration with the wet jeans, it struck me that the problem was quite minor and could be solved quite easily. I simply had to fold the hem of my jeans so that the wet part wasn't touching my ankles. If I had worn a skirt, then I would have had trouble with the wind and if I had worn shorts, I would have been cold.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Nostalgia (Part Two) : Behind Class Pictures

I hated class pictures.

I'm not photogenic. I stopped being photogenic the moment puberty set in and all the childish cuteness innate in all children mysteriously vanished underneath the acne and the awkwardness of an adolescent identity crisis. The moment I realized that my two front teeth were too big, that my face was too oily, that my nose was too fat, and that my hair comes to life to disarrange itself the moment I step away from the mirror (yes, that crucial moment I looked at my fifth grade Confirmation picture was a rather devastating one for my self-esteem) was the moment I started to refuse having my picture taken. Unfortunately, the excitement of my classmates whenever class picture day came was infectious and I often found myself very much present, disgustingly willing, and almost morbidly drawn to pose for the class picture. It's almost masochistic how I torture myself during the formal shots, agonizing ("agonized", such a fitting word to describe how I usually look during the formal shots) about how to pose for the "candid shot" (why the heck do they call it a "candid shot" when it's so obvious that our poses were over thought?).


Oh yes, I firmly believed that class pictures were hell spawn.

Keyword: believed.

I recently came across my high school class pictures. I still hate how I look, but now that I'm older, I realize that all my other classmates kinda look stupid, too. Caught up in my teenage angst, I never saw that everyone else was pretty much caught up in their own angsts to care about my angst. Oh, that's the most times I've used the word "angst" in one sentence.

Anyway, insecurities aside, I came to see details in the pictures that I would never have noticed before.

I never realized how obsessive-compulsive I was about taking note of details until I saw how I wrote the full names of all my classmates (row by row, from right to left) and the list of class officers at the back of each picture. Reading the roster of officers, I realize how we were maturing in our choices as shown by the people we elected.
As freshmen, our class elected those whom we recognized. Ian, Emerald 2001's (Eme '01) class president, was elected because people knew him from the batch council elections--rather, people knew his flashlight from the batch council elections ("This is our light, we are this flashlight", seriously, wtf?). Noelle, the VP, and Michelle, the Secretary were female heartthrobs. But, can you really blame us? We didn't know the people we were voting for.
As sophomores, we chose those whom we identified with. So, Jasmin 2001's class president, Jay-jay, was elected because she was nice. Our secretary and PRO Edmyr and Gerry were elected because their friends supported them. We already had impressions about these people. As accurate or inaccurate as these impressions may be, it was all we had so we relied on them.
When we were juniors and seniors, we began looking at the characteristics of those we voted for. Fides, was known to be very responsible so I wasn't surprised when she came to lead Strontium 2001. Papic was also very much qualified to become Charm 2001's president with her pragmatic and diplomatic nature. We stopped voting for who was popular and we began seeing who was suited. We already knew each other long enough to decide who would do well in what role.

Now, aside from people, I apparently also listed down some of the projects we did as whole classes. Class projects are awesome. I always enjoyed them because of the amount of interaction they involve. I always loved them because our teachers were easily wheedled into allowing us to "practice" during their class period.
Our first class activity was a presentation for the acquaintance party. Some of my classmates danced to Hansons' "MmmBop" (is that the actual title?) and Basil, Ferron, and I led the cheering squad.
Freshman year, we also had our English play. Our class did "Little Women". I remember how annoyed Ma-Anne and I were when we were assigned to write the script, but a small group of people suddenly declared that we were going to use the script they got out of a literary magazine. The lead characters were given to that group of girls and their crushes. I was part of the props committee, helped design the sets, and provided costumes (I was doing my best to cooperate!). I was also given the role of Marmee and Ma-Anne became an extra in a dance scene. For my role as the mother, my hair was covered with an entire container of baby powder which took me two days to wash off and made me look like "Jo"'s younger sister with premature lightening of hair. When our play tanked (as most high school plays do), Ma-Anne and I, being the biatches that we were, couldn't help but gloat.
Jade did a fantasy-adventure thing. I didn't get to see Opal's play, but I do remember that their smoke machine didn't work properly.
For Filipino, we did a "comic book" of Noli using photographs. I posed as Maria Clara. Reporting about Rizal's life gave me the role of Osei-san ("...she was a very obedient woman...") and Josephine Bracken ("...they were married in the eyes of God...") This was the heyday of the Fair Pair and, if I remember correctly, it was also a class effort that JM and Maya won second place at the Fair Pair. Basil said we should aim for second place because of the pedicab ride around the fair grounds was a prize exclusively offered to second place. (First place was the second year couple, half of which was Jacqui, a girl I would encounter again in college)

Sophomore year, we had these weird art exhibits from Sir Cipriano. We first had this wire-art exhibit where we used copper wire and soldering iron to create "sculptures". Sir Cipriano also had us cover the second floor windows with sparkly sequin designs. This involved sticking sequins one by one on the windows using oil (so it wouldn't be permanent). Stupid freshmen at that time used to run their fingers through our hardwork, thus destroying days of labor in seconds.
We also had our Val. Ed. movie, which caused major blow-ups between people for various reasons (Yay! for class "open forums" to air out our differences and Yay! for me playing the cliched bad girl in a denim jacket with a cigarette and without a bra). At about the same time, the math exhibit was being constructed. I think we made the Op Art exhibit. I'm not too sure because this was the year that I was far too busy with the student alliance.
For Fili, we did a half-class production.

Junior year was the infamous Ramayana year. Dan and I played the lead roles of Ravana and PresentSita while Marlon ("What an ugly demon!"), Dexter ("Surely is"), and Isabel played Rama, Lakshmana, and PastSita respectively. We were hanging out in KC's dorm room 9our favorite hangout next to the third floor front lobby girls' restroom) and I remember KC commenting that Vlad made one good looking Ravana and Ma-Anne complaining that Pocholo was too dark to become Ravana. Celine, on the other hand, was ranting about how "blood" was not pronounced as "blaad" and Donna, well, I don't think she liked her role as the golden deer.
This was also the year of the Literary Magazine, which Mia and I compiled and edited for Strontium. I wrote a Choose your own Adventure story about a secret lab under the Pisay campus for this. We crammed for the Literary Mag so bad that in the end, instead of a magazine, we had a bunch of paper stuffed into a plastic envelope and clamped with a, well, clamp.

Senior year was Iliad/Shakespeare year and also the year of the failed "Les Miserables" musical. I had multiple roles again. I was the scriptwriter and sets designer, which were roles I was used to. But, I also had the unenviable job of acting coach to Marlon ("Heeeeektooooor!") and Raffy ("Here's tesselation, son of Peleus, the vurst for you.") I also played another mother role. I played Andromakhe, Hektor's tragic wife.
This was also the year when batch 2001, for the first time, had finalists in the Paskorus. Burns, though he was from Muon, helped us out and played conductor. We changed our requisite OPM song from "Mr. Cupido" ("Minsan siya ay nakausap, ako ay parang nasa ulap, nang ako'y kanyang titigan, sa puso ko'y ano'ng sarap...") to "T.L. Ako Sa'yo" ("Di ka guwapo ang pangit mo!") last minute. We also sang "Diwa ng Pasko" ("Zoom-zoom zoom-zoom") as required by the mechanics, but a number of boys couldn't memorize the lyrics. Someone (Papic or Burns, tsk tsk) suggested that if they forgot the lyrics, they could simply say "Watermelon Bubblegum". Marlon and Gerom, who were both in the front row and who both forgot one too many lines, unfortunately caught the attention of the judges ("Yung ibang lalaki dito sa harap, hindi namin alam kung ano'ng kanta ang kinakanta"). Needless to say, we lost. But, we sang at the front lobby, quite satisfied with ourselves as the judges passed. We knew that our "TL ako Sayo" was much better than the winner's "Bangga ka 'Day". After that, we went to my place cause it was a day after my birthday.
Senior year was also the year of research projects and that darn Physics exhibit (Marlon in Wonderland) where Despi played a creepy looking doll and I played a sexy feline. It was an extremely stressful end of the year for me. Yearbook, Dalumat, Les Miserables (I was the managing director), and acads weighed heavily on me, but somehow, I finished.

Come to think of it, every year, people found themselves fighting over class productions. At the end of every year, the class was closer than ever. Without those projects, the relationships wouldn't have formed. And, if the people had been different, the projects wouldn't turn out the way they did. At the back of my class pictures, I didn't ask people to write me dedications, I took note of the facts and details. Somehow, these told me things that we didn't look into when we were still there.

On Prescription/Memorized Prayers


I'm not sure how accurate this post will be. I'm neither a religious nor socio-cultural expert. I am just stating and analyzing observations that I have made throughout the years.

-

Before meals, I always pray. Depending on who I am with, I pray differently. Whenever I'm with my nephew, we sing the Prayer Before Meals song:
"God is Great and God is good,
Thank you, God, for our food."
Whenever I'm alone or with my parents, we pray the prayer before meals that I learned when I was young and they learned when they were young:
"Bless us, O Lord
And these, Your gifts,
Which we are about to receive
From Your bounty
Through Christ, our Lord
Amen."
When I am with my non-Catholic Christian friends, we don't use these prescribed prayers that Catholics commonly use. With my friends, our prayers are a bit more organic, more customized to our specific needs, so to speak. Although we follow the "ATS format" (Acclamation-Thanksgiving-Supplication, no Confession/Contrition, because the prayer leader cannot be contrite for the sins of his/her companions), the prayers we pray as friends are rarely the same.

Protestants [1] do not have "memorized prayers". Now, I don't believe that there is a right way and a wrong way of praying. I believe that a prayer, memorized or not, so long as it is spoken from the heart, is still the most effective way of communicating with God. But, when faced with the question why Catholics must pray memorized prayers, I found myself giving my own theory on the matter.

Catholics focus on the community. We are constantly reminded that we are part of the "Body of the Church with Christ as our Head". With our memorized prayers, Catholics can echo the prayers of other Catholics from other parts of the world. We "believe in the Holy Catholic Church" as much as we believe in "God, the Father Almighty", "Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord", and the Holy Spirit. On a less spiritual level, I attribute this focus to the age of our religion. Catholicism, being the oldest Christian religion, was born at a time when men focused on the community. On the other hand, religions formed during the Protestant Reformation [2] focus on the personal relationship of the individual with God. I am often asked if I have accepted Jesus Christ as "my personal Lord and savior". As we do not memorize litanies to repeat them in different conversations over and over again, so Protestant brothers and sisters do not memorize prayers.

I was in high school when we read Homer's Iliad and my English teacher said that "epics can no longer be written in this age of novels" (I think she was quoting someone). People are now more focused on their own philosophies and ideals. When writers write, it is of their personal thoughts. Once upon a time, man could not separate himself from his community. When a writer wrote, he wrote about the philosophies and ideals of his community or race. The differences in the literary styles of the eras show the differences in the mindset of the people. The differences in the mindset of the people who established the different religious institutions created the differences in prayer practices. This is, of course, only my humble opinion.

Please allow me to make it clear that we Catholics do not ignore our personal relationship with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Similarly, though it is not their main focus, Baptists also believe in the church community (else, why would there be such a thing as Baptist religion?). There are just different focuses, and therefore, different practices and approaches towards the one goal of salvation.

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[1] I really hate that word. It's so medieval. Unfortunately, it is the only term I can think of at the moment.
[2] wiki said "The Protestant Reformation was a movement which emerged in the 16th century as a series of attempts to reform the Roman Catholic Church in Western Europe. The reformation ended in division and the establishment of new institutions, most importantly Lutheranism, Reformed churches, and Anabaptists. It also led to the Counter-Reformation within the Roman Catholic Church."

Friday, August 10, 2007

Oratio Imperata Ad Petendam Pluviam

I'm adding a new label : Reflections of Faith.

This is my sad attempt at trying to bring focus to my Christian life. Ivan sent me a "Read the Bible in a Year" program and I'm already four days behind schedule. So, maybe writing about it in my blog will make me take this a bit more seriously.

That said, here's my first entry under this category.

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The dry spell afflicting the Filipino people, particularly the Luzon region, threatened to bring about many bad things: shortages in rice supply, water shortages, power shortages, etc. However, this also brought about one good thing. The dry spell once again brought the Filipino people together in prayer. Catholic churches all over the country recited the "Oratio Imperata Ad Petendam Pluviam" (I guess it means "Intercessory Prayer for Rain"). I thought it would be interesting to put the prayer up so people could read it:

God our loving Father, creator of our earth and of the universe, and all the wondrous elements of nature that sustain your living creatures, we humbly ask you to send us the rain that our country needs so badly at this time, to irrigate our fields, to stave off a power shortage, to provide water for our bodily health, and to refresh our parched lands. At your command the wind and the seas obey, raise your hand Almighty God to commence the normal rainy season that has now been long delayed so that crisis may be averted.

Merciful and generous God, open our eyes to the richness and beauty of your creation and instill in us a deep love for this earth and all that is in and around it. Teach us to be wise stewards of your creation so that we may always use them responsibly and protect them from abuse and exploitation. At this time of crisis, dear Lord, move us to share more, to serve more and to love more.

Loving God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, you entrusted the Filipino people to the special care of Mary our Mother, listen to the prayers that we bring up to her, our Blessed Mother, to intercede for us, for the protection of our land and our people, whom she loves.

Grant this through our Lord Jesus Christ who lives and reigns with you in the unty of the Holy Spirit, One God for ever and ever. Amen.

Our Lady of Guadalupe, pray for us.
Saint Rose of Lima, pray for us.
Saint Lorenzo Ruiz, pray for us.



Just to make things clear, however, I am not attributing the miracle that was typhoon Chedeng to Catholics, only. If I'm not mistaken, other people prayed for rain, as well. The indigenous people did their rain dances and appeals to their gods, too. This shows how powerful the prayers of a people are. This also shows what can happen if a people stand together and aim for something.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Of Losing Control

Perhaps I'm just prudish, or maybe too sheltered. Or perhaps, it's the slow rise of all the negative thoughts that I chose to bury at the back of my mind rising to the surface like the bubbles of my beer that makes drinking at night unappealing to me. I've never been helplessly inebriated. I've been tipsy once, and that turned out so magnificently that I decided never to let it happen again.
I have control issues. I like keeping control of my thoughts. I've never let go of that control; not even as I watched my car spin out of control after being rear ended by a jeepney at an intersection.

I know I've mentioned that before.

But, as much as I don't like to lose control of my conscious thought, I often lose control of my emotions. I've gone into a tailspin that I couldn't seem to get out of. And, in the haze brought about by these emotional crashes, I sometimes choose to lower my inhibitions in order to lessen the excess baggage and somehow get a grip.

Such is the irony of life.

To be honest, sometimes, I wish I could let loose and be carefree instead of paying for so much control with the irrevocable consequences of feelings that need to be set free under all the pressure of controlled thought. And, for that reason, I find myself envying the helplessly inebriated, sometimes.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Shallow Pride

This is stupid, but I needed to write it down, anyway.

I've never considered myself a good writer. A passable one, sure, but a good one? No, never. The thing I prided myself most about was my imagination and ability to conjure stories that I could fit into any fandom. I enjoy writing these plots out and receiving some kind of acknowledgment that whatever crap I come up with made someone else happy.

I can't believe not getting reviews is upsetting me so much.

I've never been a good student. Gods... none of my high school teachers would ever describe me as a good student. I was a passable student, after all, I got to college, didn't I? But I was not a good student. I don't like the structured learning of school where you are forced to learn at someone else's pace at someone else's time. What I prided myself to be was a good learner. I enjoy learning new things, I am inspired by new concepts, I enjoy sharing that knowledge.

I can't believe my GWA is upsetting me even more than usual.

I've never seen myself as a good person. No, I'm an okay person. I'm not outrightly evil, but I'm no saint, either. My friends may describe me as a good person, but, damn it, I'm as selfish and self-centered as they come. And, quite frankly, I don't deserve more than half the praise. The only aspect of me I have always been proud of is my compassion. I could feel someone's pain and empathize. I enjoy the feeling of having made a person smile or allowed a person cry on my shoulder.


This, that I am upset because I seem to have lost feeling and care, I can believe.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Elegy and Angsty Ukes

While watching Animax the other day, I heard a song called "Elegy" by Ken Hirai. There was something about that song that seemed to speak to me. It was strange because despite the fact that I couldn't understand the lyrics, it made something inside me stir. It stayed in my head even as I lay in bed that night. I don't understand Japanese. Yes, contrary to popular belief, I can't understand a word of it.

But that song... it felt like something that I would sing to you.

Never mind that neither of us spoke Japanese, the emotion it evoked in me was enough.

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Last night I took the Ultimate Yaoi-level Selector quiz in Quizilla for fun. My result was Angsty Uke. I laughed so hard when I found out because *points at the blog description* and because I've always known I wasn't meant to top. I'm too emotionally unstable.

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Now, what's the relationship between these two things? I looked up the lyrics of Elegy earlier today and discovered what the lyrics meant. It turns out that it's a love song written from a woman's perspective. It's a song of surrender. It's a song of urgency. It's also a song of the sad uncertainty of tomorrow.
I’ll dirty you with my hands, with my hands
And drown in you again and again, again and again
Our two backs together gives me anxiety and happiness
That comes in waves, penetrating me
If this love’s going to die someday
Tear me apart now with your love

That's part of the song. Go figure. It's translated Japanese, so it's not supposed to make a lot of sense upfront and without a little thought. But, as with all sad love songs, if you're in love, you can relate to them. I just found it weird that I related to it so well before understanding the words.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Disappear for a while...

...I did that on purpose.

People don't really notice that you've been gone until you come back; unless, they know you're going, of course.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Wish

I wonder if my wishes are too complicated or too impossible to fulfill or if this is just God's way of telling me that there are some things that are just not meant to be.

We Catholics have so many superstitions, one being that visiting a new church warrants you a wish from the patron of that church. I wished for the same thing over and over again with every new church I ended up in over the past eight days. As I stood in front of the Trevi fountain earlier tonight, my fingers clutching tightly on a small coin and praying for the same thing to come true, I began to wonder what I was doing wrong. I wondered long and hard if it was worth it: to wish again and to be disappointed again.

And then I threw the coin over my shoulder.

I don't even know if it touched the bottom of the fountain, but, to be honest, I've given up hoping. It doesn't matter anymore whether you're crawling on the dirt or soaring in the sky.

Just pick yourself up and move on.

(Yeah, I know, ambiguity sucks, but bear with me. I've been a bit down for a while now. =) )

Saturday, April 14, 2007

A title for your thoughts

The difference between a journal and blogging is the title bar. Every time I see that field labeled "title", I feel compelled to make one up. My mother's father likes titles. He wants me to become a doctor, if only for the title. Most of my stories have lousy titles, because grouping together a bunch of words to form a teasing phrase that describes my thoughts has never been a forte of mine. I don't like titles. I've been given many titles in my life--phrases that try to describe my very being. But what do they know?

What do I know?

My thoughts are often too disjoint to form into one coherent text that can be given a title. My personality is just the same. How do you describe such scattered fragments with so few words? I wonder how artists do that. Maybe it's because they created the disarray themselves that they know what the title should be.

Perhaps God has a title for me.