<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317</id><updated>2011-08-08T22:50:35.548+08:00</updated><title type='text'>~Chained by Lace</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>113</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-697983768564358763</id><published>2011-08-08T21:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2011-08-08T22:50:35.559+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's been around one month since the supposed revival of this blog, but I find I've lost my taste for posting things online. I have a notebook, see, and ideas constantly churning in my head that I can't show anyone, at least for now. I'm devoting my all to academics (woah, really, I actually care about my classes now), UP Tomo-Kai, learning about people and God, thinking, and writing things down mentally or actually in my notebook.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So no, no blog in there :)). If I ever do post something in here, most probably it'll be some writing exercise from one of my classes, or some lengthy rant about some random thing to procrastinate, like now. Maybe someday I'll go back to posting regularly, but right now I'm too pressured by things that I consider more important than writing things here, especially since I'm still writing, you just don't see it anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So 'til next time :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-697983768564358763?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/697983768564358763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=697983768564358763' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/697983768564358763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/697983768564358763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2011/08/its-been-around-one-month-since.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5313875391257052198</id><published>2011-06-24T16:06:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T16:39:16.641+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nagbalik din</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hello hello! Namiss niyo ba ako? Hihihi. Ako, namiss ko kayo. ('Bat parang ang creepy nung sinulat ko nung binasa ko siya uli?) Kaya't heto, matapos ang napakahabang soul-searching hiatus ko, ako'y muling nagbalik! MUHAHAHA!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pansin niyo naman siguro (unless ngayon niyo pa lang nadatnan ang blog na ito), na nagpalit na ako ng layout. Iisa-isahin ko ang proseso, kasi deserve niya ito. So una, yung site title. Nakuha ko 'yan sa Septimus Heap series, na sobrang nakakatuwang basahin. 'Di siya pwedeng macompare sa Harry Potter, pero hindi ibig sabihin na hindi siya sulit bilhin at pagpuyatan, dahil maganda rin naman siya. Subukan niyo ring basahin :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Next, ang pics. Combination lang yan ng apat na pics na pinaghalo-halo (yung clouds ay isang screenshot galing sa Soul Eater, nung napatigil si Death the Kidd sa paghahabol kay Crona dahil biglang naging symmetrical ang mundo, lol), at for the first time, puro basic brushes lang ang ginamit ko. Limang araw ko rin siyang ginawa, kasama na ang coding, na medyo matagal considering simple lang yung layout, pero nanibago rin kasi ako matapos ang mahabang hiatus. Salamat kay ~&lt;a href="http://zalas.deviantart.com/"&gt;zalas&lt;/a&gt;, ~&lt;a id="alt" href="http://jimothy.deviantart.com/"&gt;jimothy&lt;/a&gt;, at ~&lt;a href="http://haila-ourfarewell.deviantart.com/"&gt;Haila-OurFarewell&lt;/a&gt; para sa ibang mga pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ganito ang layout? Binagay ko siya sa isang kwentong isinusulat ko, na ipopost ko sa susunod kong entry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ba ako tumigil sa pagboblog? Well, una, tinamad ako. Masyadong marami ang mga pinag-iisipan ko nung panahong iyon, na hindi ko rin naman maaaring i-share. Oo, binibitin ko kayo. Pero totoong di ko talaga mashashare, kasi di ko alam pano sisimulan. Kaya iwanan na lang natin sa ganun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang importante'y tapos na iyon, at nais kong i-share kung ano na bang pinaggagagawa ko ngayon. Ako'y kumukuha na ng BA Creative Writing sa UPD (puffed out chest). Ulitin natin. Ako'y isa nang estudyante ng Kolehiyo ng Arte at Literatura ng Unibersidad ng Pilipinas, majoring in BA Creative Writing. Hay, ansarap talagang basahin~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;2nd year na ako, at parang andami na ring nagbago mula nang huli akong magpost sa blog na ito. Hay. Feeling ko antanda ko na :)). Well, matagal na rin akong may uban sa buhok, so no wonder. Sana naman mahaba pa ang buhay ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Iyon lang muna.(sabi ni prof, kelangan din ng distance to make a relationship work. hrmhrm. so bitin na muna uli) Kamusta kamusta~ Kita-kits uli mamaya :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5313875391257052198?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5313875391257052198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5313875391257052198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5313875391257052198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5313875391257052198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2011/06/nagbalik-din.html' title='Nagbalik din'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8864762697667636930</id><published>2010-09-29T09:50:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-29T09:52:47.663+08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Eye's POV</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The camera was shocked. For the last half hour, it had been photographing nothing but charcoaled meat and grease-blackened grills. Where were the birds, the buds slowly uncurling their petals to the setting sun? Where were the – What was that just now? Intestines on a stick?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Something was wrong. For the first time in the ten years since it had been unwrapped from its manufacturer's packaging by the gentle hands that held it now, it wished it was not her mechanical eye. Oh, to have a neck to turn upon at will, and see as it wished! What he would give to have the power to look up at its owner's face right now without needing someone to direct it so!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;But she had other plans for it. It was baking in smoke. It couldn't understand. Wars between she and those closest to her had been born out of the lightest of foreign touches upon its black surface. Yet here it was choking in the smoke, subjected to all sorts of particles flying about that could jam its anytime.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Something was definitely wrong. She seemed to be standing as close as possible to the grill, where it was hottest. Every now and then, she would make it sneak glances at the boy in charge of fanning the meat. It had once heard its owner say that she planned on becoming a wildlife photographer someday, but it thought practicing on a human, though a bit greasy with the charcoal and heat, was pushing it a little. And what did she find so interesting about it all anyway?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;They had actually been passing by this place regularly for a while now. She would always look over here, sometimes using up ten whole minutes just standing on the sidewalk looking over here, one foot forward and one foot back, but this was the first time she had actually come close. She needed to take a photograph for an article someone had written for the school paper, she said to the boy as she held the camera up to his face. Please don't mind me. He said, OK, smiling. At that moment, the camera felt the hands holding it tremble.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Still, half an hour is a lot of time to take just one photo for an article that was pretty worthless in its opinion. What was the point?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The photographer aimed the camera at the boy's face once more for a quick glimpse. She saw him looking at her through the lens. She gasped and nearly sent the camera crashing down onto the rocks underfoot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;You've been working hard, the boy said. How about eating some? Pick anything. It's on me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The camera was still pointed at his face, though she seemed to have forgotten that it was in her hands. Maybe it was the heat, because the boy's cheeks were red, and the photographer's hands had become unbearably warm, as she reached one out to take a burnt stick.&lt;/p&gt;Isang writing exercise sa aking CW class. Random occupation, random event, bunutan kung ano yun. Nakuha ko Photographer + Hooked up with a BBQ vendor. Weird, talagang weird. :)) Sana hindi ganun kaweird yung ginawa ko.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8864762697667636930?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8864762697667636930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8864762697667636930' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8864762697667636930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8864762697667636930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/09/eyes-pov.html' title='An Eye&apos;s POV'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1553859585329166142</id><published>2010-09-20T23:41:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T00:03:04.134+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The root</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sometimes, I just get so tired of thinking. I twist and turn around the threads of thought, and most of the time they just twist themselves into knots, and my head hurts, and I just want to give up and throw out all this philosophizing into the air. Live whichever way they tell me too. But when those moments come, I remind myself that that was not the point of it all. Well, I wonder if it even has a point, but if it does at least that's not it. I'll have to bring in more pain, or everything I've ever gone through would have been a waste.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I was searching through the internet just now. I've recently gone on a quest, see: Find the point of life. Haha. How unoriginal of me. But you'd think that after everything humanity's gone through, we'd have found the answer for that already. Some people have. I'm sure some of them have. You'd think they'd have shared it with the rest of humanity, but wisdom can't be taught. So I'm looking for it myself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;What struck me the most was the prevalent notion that the point of life was: Happiness. The way of the Tao. Life will throw you suffering. Life will throw you lemons, great big rotting lemons. Grin and bear it. Find happiness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't know about you, but I think a life well-lived is more than just being happy. You can say things like being spiritually happy, or truly happy. I still won't agree.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;"&lt;b&gt;Point me out the happy man and I will point you out either egotism, selfishness, evil --or else an absolute ignorance.&lt;/b&gt;"&lt;br&gt;&lt;u&gt;Graham Greene&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't see why people hate suffering so much. Well, I don't like suffering either, but I appreciate it. No, I don't hate it. Maybe I even like it a tad. I don't want to float above the ground on a helium high, I want to crawl upon the earth. I'm probably not making a lot of sense right now. See why wisdom can't be taught? Haha. Yeah, I'm a feeler, I know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Certainly, I want to be happy. But I think life means so much more than the satisfaction of our pleasures. And are we all so selfish? To do things only so that we could be happy? Is that really the beginning and the end to everything? Selfishness? Ours, and that of our loved ones'? Life has to be so much more. I have to believe that humanity is much more. I have to believe that we do good things not because we want to go to heaven, but because. I want to believe those of us who are pure are not so just because they have never been faced with an opportunity to sin. I have to believe in this things, or what would be the point?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1553859585329166142?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1553859585329166142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1553859585329166142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1553859585329166142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1553859585329166142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/09/root.html' title='The root'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3657759699684818609</id><published>2010-09-02T23:48:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-09-03T00:04:05.881+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mapagpantasyang Katotohanan</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kung ako ang presidente ng Pilipinas, sinisigurado ko sa inyong magagawa kong puksain ang kahirapan ng ating lipunan. Ipaglalaban ko ang karapatan ng bawat isa na kanyang mamamayan, siya ma’y isang lalaki, babae, linalaki o binabae. Ang ating mga kalsada’y aking patitibayin at papapatagin. Ang bawat bata’y magkakaroon ng sariling mga libro, para sa mga paaralang hindi na kakailanganin pang tumawid ng dalawang ilog at tatlong bundok para marating. Sila’y sasalubungin ng mga gurong nakangiti, pagka’t sila’y kontento sa kanilang mga sahod, at mga leksyong comprehensibo at makatuturan, ngunit madaling intindihin dahil sa mahusay na pagpapaliwanag ng kanilang mga guro at libro. Matutulad tayo sa bansang Tsina, na ngayo’y namomroblema dahil sa labis na mga kabataang nakapagtapos ng kolehiyo ngunit walang mahanap na trabaho, pero huwag kayong mag-alala, aangat pa tayo sa kanila, pagka’t sisiguraduhin kong magkakaroon ng maraming oportunidad para sa ating mga mamamayan na nais ng maaliwalas na buhay. Wala nang mangingibang-bansa, wala nang doktor na magnanars dahil sa mga ospital na punong-puno ng pasyente ngunit kulang-kulang sa gamit at pondo, pagka’t ang panibagong Pilipinas na ating itataguyod ang siyang magiging supremo na modelo kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng isang nasyon na unipikado, maayos, malinis, at demokratiko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kay sayang bola, hindi ba? Huwag mo nang basahin ulit ang naunang talata, dahil baka masuka ka lang sa maghahalong tawa at suklam na babara sa iyong lalamunan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Una sa lahat, banta ng tiyak na kamatayan lamang ang magtutulak sa akin na tumakbo sa pagkapresidente, at milagro lamang ang magpapapanalo sa akin kunsakali. Hindi ako mayaman, wala akong pag-aaring mga lupa, at wala akong mga koneksyon sa pulitika, maliban na sa aking tito na tumakbo sa pagkakonsehal at natalo. Pera, kapangyarihan, at suporta mula sa mga nag-aangkin ng mga ito. Iyon lang naman ang magpapasigurado ng iyong pagkapanalo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pangalawa, posible ba talagang makamit ito ng Pilipinas? Labing-anim na taon pa lamang ako, at kakaunti pa lamang ang nakikita ko sa mundong ito ng aking bansa, ngunit ayun nga’t kakaunti pa lamang ang aking nakikita, nawawalan na ako ng pag-asa. Pagpuksa ng kahirapan? Ito mula sa isang nasyon na baon sa utang. Demokrasya? Papaano na lamang ang pagkaignorante ng kanyang mga mamamayan, kaya’t hindi sila makawa ng desisyon ukol sa mga ang nararapat na gawin ng kanilang gobyerno, o kahit pa para sa kanilang mga sarili? Pagkakapantay-pantay ng mga kasarian? Totoo, ang Pilipinas, kung ikukumpara mo nga naman sa kanyang mga karatig-bansa, ang isa sa may mga pinakapantay na pagtingin sa kanyang mga kalalakihan at kababaihan. Nagkaroon na tayo ng di lang isa, ngunit dalawang presidente na babae. E papaano ang mga bakla? Baka nagkaroon na rin tayo ng ganoong klase ng pinuno, ngunit hindi natin kailanman masisigurado, dahil itinago nila ang aspetong iyon ng kanilang pagkatao. At iyon ang punto. Tinatago ang kabaklaan, at sabihin man nating moderno ang ating pag-iisip at tayo’y bukas sa lahat, puwes bakit hindi tatlo, o sige, apat para na rin sa mga linalaki, ang mga kasariang maaari mong pagpilian tuwing ika’y nagkukumpleto ng isang legal na dokumento? Maaari pa akong magpatuloy, ngunit sigurado naman akong nakuha niyo na ang punto ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang isang presidente ay nagtatagal lamang ng anim na taon sa kanyang pwesto, at iyon ay kung maswerte siya’t mahina ang kanyang oposisyon, o kaya’y magaling siyang “makitungo” sa mga miyembro ng kanyang kongreso. Kasalungat nito, ang kasalukuyang kultura ng pulitika sa ating bansa ay matagal nang naririto, simula pa noong panahon ng pananakop.  Crab mentality, Filipino time, ilan lamang sa mga ugaling ipinasa ng ating mga mananakop sa mga katutubo, at ng mga magulang sa kanilang mga anak. Hindi naiiba rito ang mga mayayaman, na sa kinalauna’y, siyang naging mga pinuno ng ating bansa. Kaya bang baguhin ng anim na taon lamang sa posisyon ang katamaran at karamutang nanatiling matatag, kahit pa pagkalipas ng maraming henerasyon?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pangatlo, ang pinakamasakit, ay ang kasimplehan ng mga pangakong ito. Isang matiwasay na buhay. Hindi ba’t nararapat lang naman ito para sa lahat? Ngunit walang perpekto, kabilang na ang mga lipunan. Totoo’t maaari nga nating pagandahin ang buhay ng iilan, o kahit pa karamihan, ng ating mga mamamayan, ngunit mayroon at mayroon pa ring maghihirap. Hindi ko sinasabi na porke’t hindi natin magagawang tulungan ang lahat ay titigil na tayo sa pagpursigi para sa kabutihan ng ating mga mamamayan. Ang bawat tao ay mahalaga, at dapat mapangalagaan ng ating gobyerno. Ang tanong nga lang, kaya nga ba itong magampanan ng isang institusyon na pinapalakad ng mga hasyindero na dapat sana’y mga representatibo ng kanilang mga rehiyon, ngunit sa huli’y wala namang ikinaparehas sa kanyang mga inirerepresenta, maliban na lang sa lugar na kanilang pinanggalingan?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At ang pinakahuli sa lahat, ang pinakanakakainis, ay, hindi man kasing lantaran ng aking paglalahad rito, ang aking listahan ng mga pangako’y isa lamang larawan ng iyong tipikal na plataporma para sa mga tumatakbo sa pagkapangulo. Mga kandidatong nananalo at nagiging pinuno ng ating bansa. Aminin na natin, hindi natin tinitingnan ang mga detalye ng kanilang mga pangako. Binoboto natin ang ating mga pangulo base sa kanyang imahe at hindi sa mga proyektong kanyang isusulong kapag siya’y naihalal sa posisyon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kung ako ma’y maging presidente ng Pilipinas, ang departamentong pagtutuunan ko ng pansin ay ang edukasyon. Ito ang pinakamainam na paraan upang mapabuti ang ating kalagayan. Ang mga problemang bumabagabag sa atin ngayon ay maaaring mahanapan ng solusyon ng mga susunod na henerasyon kapag sila’y nabigyan ng wastong edukasyon. Maaaring hindi maging malayong pangarap ang isang maunlad na Pilipinas kapag nagkataon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Iaabswelto ko ang Republika mula sa pagbabayad nito ng kanyang mga utang, na siyang dapat ginawa ni  Pang. Aquino noong araw. Kung inisip niya lang sana ang kalagayan ng karamihan, at hindi lamang ang magiging reputasyon natin. Kung ang mga anak mo ba’y nagsisimatayan na sa gutom, ipambabayad mo pa rin ba ang kay liit mong sweldo sa utang? Hindi, at kung pagkamoral ang magiging usapan, mas imoral naman ang di pagpansin sa mga naghihirap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang tatlong kapat ng pondong ito’y ililipat ko sa edukasyon ng ating mga kabataan. Dahil malaki naman ito, mayroon na ring mapagkukunan ng pera na ipanglalagay sa mga taong kailangan lagyan upang gawing edukado ang ating mga anak. Naniniwala akong ang mga mamamayang mabubuo ng sistema na ito’y tiyak na babalanse sa mga negatibong epekto ng ating pag-aabswelto mula sa ating mga utang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At syempre, para namang masigurado na ang perang iginugol sa kanilang edukasyon ay hindi mapagsasamantalahan lamang ng ibang mga bansa, ang huling kapat ay ilalagay ko sa pondong inilaan para sa sweldo ng mga nagtatrabaho sa ilalim ng gobyerno, kabilang na ang ating mga doktor at guro. Kung papipiliin naman natin ang ating mga OFWs, ang totoo’y pipiliin ng karamihan sa mga ito manatili na lamang sa ating bansa. Ngunit dahil nga sa kakulungan ng oportunidad na matatagpuan sa ating mga pulo, kinakailangan nilang lumisan patungo sa mas mayayamang mga bansa. Hindi ko siguro mapapantayan ang maaaring ialok ng mga dayuhan na sweldo sa kanila, hindi sila yayaman dito, ngunit magagawa nitong sustentuhan ang kanilang mga simpleng pangangailangan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa totoo’y ito lamang ang magagawa ko sa ngayon, ang iasa na lamang sa susunod na henerasyon ang daang tatahakin ng ating bansa sa susunod pa nitong mga siglo. Ang totoo’y wala akong makitang solusyon, mga daan lamang na maaaring magbunga sa isang solusyon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko talaga iboboto ang sarili ko sa pagkapresidente.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Word Count:&lt;/b&gt; 1,218 words&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3657759699684818609?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3657759699684818609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3657759699684818609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3657759699684818609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3657759699684818609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/09/mapagpantasyang-katotohanan.html' title='Mapagpantasyang Katotohanan'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4469402818265937754</id><published>2010-08-13T01:32:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T20:11:05.332+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Of Lawnmowers and Roses</title><content type='html'>My midterm paper for CW10,... to be submitted later. =)) Masipag na bata, laging nagcacram.&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I have a picture of you in my wallet, of a perfect day of long ago. You are holding a plastic loop up to your lips that are pursed into an O. An enormous bubble is bulging out of the circle, distorting your face. The first time I showed you this photograph, you had laughed and said you looked like a mutant fish.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Your other hand is gripping a big blue bowl, filled up to the brim with water and dishwashing liquid. You hold it beneath the bubble, like an altar boy poised to catch the crumbs of Jesus Christ. You explained that the smallest drop of soap could kill the grass.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;You’ve always liked grass: the smell of it in the morning, when it’s wet with the tears of the dying night; the smell of it as it’s cut off from the earth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Looking for the perfect lawn mower was probably the hardest thing we ever had to do together. The shops nearby only had the types that ran on gas and electricity available. But grass-cutting was an art. It was your personal ritual of purification, and mixing it up with a whirring motor would have been the gravest sacrilege. You would have gone on cutting each individual blade with a pair of scissors, turning the wet steel this way and that to watch it glint beneath the sun. But even you got tired of a never flat lawn, and of starting all over again every time you thought you were done.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Then we saw it. It was a three-foot steel contraption painted in green. Two bars jutted out to the side at the upper end, making up the handles. They would meet and twist around each other in the middle, then bend away again to where they get attached to two wheels. As you push the mower, six blades twisted into a cylinder between the wheels turn with the reel, cutting up the grass as you go. It was an old model, and we were the only ones impractical enough to buy it, so we got it at a very cheap price.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;You would sit next to the window and look out onto the lawn. You could sit there for hours on end, never moving, probably never even blinking. Perhaps you believed that, like that, it would be possible to watch the grass shoot up and grow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Only when it was a quarter of the way up to my knees would you take the lawnmower out. And then it would be my turn to sit next to the window to watch you run back and forth across the lawn, blades of green grass flying behind you like rain. Sometimes you would hit a rock, and the sudden jolt would make your eyes grow wide with surprise, before they crinkle up at the corners as you throw your head back and laugh. You would come in afterwards, red-faced and panting, bits of grass stuck to your clothes. I would bend down to kiss the nape of your neck, where it’s wet with the earth and your sweat. I’ve always believed heaven could smell only of this sweet intoxication.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Does it?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I pay a kid from the house at the end of street to mow the lawn for me now. He never runs like you used to, and his grumbling is worse than a whirring motor. When he hits a rock, he curses at the top of his voice. But he will have to do. It’s hard enough staggering from the sidewalk to the front door amidst all that grass. Sometimes I’d fill up that big blue bowl with water and dishwashing liquid again with the intention of spraying the lawn with it, just so I wouldn’t have to wake up to the smell of dew in the morning. It’s impossible to describe how it feels every time I instinctively reach out to touch your face because of that scent, only to feel nothing but cloth and remember that you’re no longer there. Still, I always end up throwing the soap into the sink, because you wouldn’t have wanted that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Flowers of all colors lie across the marble slab and hide your name from view. I gather them up, one by one, the roses and lavender stalks and dandelions, into a rich bouquet of rainbows. Any man would have swooned at the scent of them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;When they’re all nice and tidy in my hands, I flex my arms back as far as I can, then hurl the bouquet, heady perfume and all, into oblivion. I know you’re happiest buried beneath nothing but earth and grass.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4469402818265937754?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4469402818265937754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4469402818265937754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4469402818265937754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4469402818265937754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/08/of-lawnmowers-and-roses.html' title='Of Lawnmowers and Roses'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-9188291332010874128</id><published>2010-08-05T22:42:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2010-08-05T22:43:14.673+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've been waiting for for so long...</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/vHkPJ1ACLrg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/vHkPJ1ACLrg&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1?color1=0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=0xfebd01" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-9188291332010874128?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/9188291332010874128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=9188291332010874128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9188291332010874128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9188291332010874128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/08/what-ive-been-waiting-for-for-so-long.html' title='What I&apos;ve been waiting for for so long...'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7798057933175742098</id><published>2010-07-26T12:35:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-26T12:37:26.605+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's Bigger?</title><content type='html'>Something I found at the Dollars forum. Enjoy &gt;;)&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;img src="http://i31.tinypic.com/35jfsyr.gif"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7798057933175742098?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7798057933175742098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7798057933175742098' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7798057933175742098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7798057933175742098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/07/whos-bigger.html' title='Who&apos;s Bigger?'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i31.tinypic.com/35jfsyr_th.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2262317550273497057</id><published>2010-07-20T00:22:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-20T00:32:42.502+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dissecting Marrows</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinanood niya ang mundo sa labas ng bintana. Dapat ay may araw na ngayon, ngunit ang nakikita lamang niya’y isang makulimlim na langit, isang madilim na mundo. Malakas ang ihip ng hangin. Paminsan ito’y bubugso papasok ng bintana, babasain ang kwarto ng ulan. Dapat siguro’y isara na niya ang bintana. Ganoon daw dapat ang gawin kapag pumapasok na ang ulan, sabi ng kanyang ina. Ngunit nanatili siyang nakaupo sa kanyang kama, pinapanood ang pagsayaw ng ulan at dahon sa labas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Maya-maya’y babangon rin siya’t maghahanda para sa klase. Maliligo, kakain, mag-aayos para magmukhang desente. Simpleng mga damit lang na babagay sa panahon mula sa kanyang limitadong koleksyon sa baul. Lumalabas siya ng bahay kahit basa pa ang kanyang buhok. Gusto niyang isipin na ito’y dahil sa isa siyang indibidwal na hindi limitado ng lipunang kanyang ginagalawan. Pero ang totoo’y tinatamad lang siyang gumising ng maaga para lang mag-ayos. Basta naman desente ang itsura niya, wala silang karapatang magreklamo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Papasok siya sa klase, suot ang ID kung saan nakatatak ang kanyang pangalan at ang kolehiyong kanyang kinabibilangan. School of Economics. Bakit? Bakit ba siya napadpad dito? Marami raw pera kapag ito ang pinasukan mong kurso. Wala pa naman siyang gusto nung panahon ng aplikasyon sa UP e. Sabi nila maayos naman daw dito, matino ang mga trabahong maaari niyang pasukan sa hinaharap. Mahilig naman siya sa Matematika diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gaano karami na kayang kasinungalingan ang nasabi niya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang paborito niya sa lahat ay ang pagsusulat. Ang panonood sa mga letrang magdikit-dikit, maging isang salita, tapos isang pangungusap, hanggang makabuo siya ng isang istorya. Isang mundo mula sa kanyang imahinasyon, heto’t naging konkreto, hindi na lamang panaginip. Pwede siyang mabuhay kahit ito lamang ang gagawin niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit alam niyang hindi ito maaari.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagmula siya sa isang pamilya ng mga doktor. Sa katunaya’y may klinika pa nga sila sa Mandaluyong kung saan may dentista, pediatrician, ENT, at marami pang ibang spesyalidad sa larangan ng medisina, at lahat ng ito’y mga kamag-anak niya. Ang kuya niya’y nag-aaral ng MBB, at mukhang may balak ding magdoktor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi naman sa pinipilit siya ng kanyang mga magulang na pumasok sa medisina. Sa katunaya’y sinabi pa nga nila ang napakabaduy na linyang “Follow you heart. Live your dreams,” sa kanya. At nang sinabi nila ito’y ngumiti lamang siya at nagpasalamat. Mahal siya ng mga magulang niya, alam niya iyon. Ngunit alam niya ring hindi sila nagsasabi ng totoo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi nila siya papayagang maging isang manunulat kailanman. Hindi nila sinasabi, pero alam niyang ayaw nilang pumili siya ng isang trabahong sa kanilang opinyon ay walang kwenta. Hindi kumikita ang mga manunulat sa Pilipinas, kahit pa sa ibang parte ng mundo, maliban na lang kapag sikat ka. Marami nang nakapagsabi na magaling daw siyang magsulat, pero matayog pa rin na pangarap ang maging sikat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ayaw nila siyang mahirapan. Ayaw niya ring mahirapan. Nabuhay siya ng komportable, sa loob ng isang malaking bahay na may dalawang katulong at tatlong kotse. Hindi sila mayaman, pero kung ihahambing nga naman sa ibang mga tao sa kanilang kapaligiran, para silang mga milyonaryo. Masyadong naging komportable ang buhay niya, at hindi niya alam kung makakayanan niya ang mamroblema sa pera.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At naroon pa ang kanyang talino. Pinag-aral siya sa mga magagandang paaralan, at hinubog siya upang maging importante’t mabisang mamamayan. Ang ibinabayad niya sa pagpasok ay tinutustusan ng taong-bayan. Mga taong ang tanging iniisip ay kung papaano sila mabubuhay, kahit pa hanggang sa susunod na araw lang. Mga taong pinapadala ang kanilang mga mahal sa buhay, o kaya’y ang kanilang mga sarili, sa ibang bansa para lamang magkapera. Mga taong nakatili ang mga kamay, hindi na umaasang sila’y makakawala pa. Mga taong nakikita niya sa kalye, kumakatok sa mga bintana ng magagarang kotse, masaya na sa sampung piso. Mga taong hindi niya kilala, hindi niya kailanman makikita, ngunit alam niyang umaasa sa kanya. Mapapakain ba sila ng mga istorya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kay dali ng buhay dati. Totoo ang mga kalaban mo. Maaring sila’y isang diktador, o kahit pa isang mananakop na umaapi sa mga mamamayan ng isang nasyon. Pero ano bang kinakalaban niya ngayon?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto niyang bumuti ang kalagayan nila. Ngunit paano niya gagawin iyon? Bigyan sila ng trabaho? Bigyan sila ng pera? May trabaho ang mga Amerikano, pero andami sa kanilang nasisiraan ng bait. Mayayaman ang mga Hapon, pero andami sa kanilang nagpapatiwakal. Ano ba ang kailangan ng tao? Kaligayahan? Kapayapaan? Kalayaan?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May kakayahan ba talaga siyang tumulong?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pagkatapos ng klase’y dederetso na siya sa bahay. Paminsan nahuhuli niya ang tingin ng mga blockmates niya, at doon ay makikita niya ang awa para sa babaeng laging nag-iisa. Pag nangyayari ito’y matatawa na lang siya nang tahimik, dahil hindi naman siya ganoon. Marami siyang mga kaibigan, at mahilig siyang ngumiti at tumawa. Pero paminsan, nakakapagod lang talaga ang makipagsalamuha sa mga tao. Bawat tao’y iba ang karakter na dapat niyang gampanan. Kahit pa sa kanyang mga kaibigan, kailangan niyang maging malungkot upang damayan sila sa kanilang kalungkutan, at kailangan niyang maging masaya tuwing sila’y masaya. Ayos lang, kahit ano para sa kanila. Pero paminsan, gusto lang talaga niyang magpahinga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang una niyang makikita pag-uwi niya ay ang kanyang lolo. Lagi itong nakaupo sa harap ng bahay, naninigarilyo. Ayaw na ayaw niya sa usok na nagmumula rito, kaya’t papasok siya agad pagtapos batiin ang matanda at isasara ang pinto. Kadalasa’y ito lamang ang magiging palitan sa pagitan nilang dalawa buong araw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sabi nila’y dapat mong respetuhin ang mas nakatatanda sa iyo. Dapat mong mahalin ang iyong sariling dugo. Ang sabihin ba noo’y masama siya? Ang mga magulang niya’y inalagaan ang mga magulang nila sa kanilang katandaan, at ganoon din naman sila. Tatanda rin tayong lahat, alam niya iyon, pero lagi niyang ipinagdarasal na hindi siya umabot sa puntong kasusuklaman siya ng sarili niyang mga apo, na sana mawala na siya bago pa siya maging ulyanin. Pero bata pa lang siya, kaya siguro nagagawa pa niyang humiling ng ganitong mga bagay. Ang kamataya’y malayo pa, at pwede pa siyang hindi maging maramot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Uuwi siya’t itatambak ang kanyang mga gamit sa isang sulok ng sala. Buti na lang at nasa unang taon pa lang siya, wala pa masyadong gagawin. Pwede pa siyang mangarap, magliwaliw sa kanyang limitadong kalayaan. Tutugtog siya ng piano kapag gusto niyang asarin ang mga kapitbahay, dahil sino pa bang nakikinig sa mga klasiko ngayon? Maglalaro siya ng kompyuter hanggang hatinggabi.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Paminsan mapapaisip siya. Hindi ba siya nabubuhay? Pakiramdam niya’y sinusundan lamang niya ang mga batas ng lipunan, nakikisabay lamang sa makinaryang binubuo ng mga taong walang mukha. Isa siyang patak ng ulan. Mumunti. Lalagapak patungo sa lupa, walang importansya. Isang buhay lang naman siya sa isang trilyon. Pag nawala siya’y ang mga malalapit lang sa kanya ang makakapansin, at sila ri’y mga mumunting patak lamang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ba maaaring mabuhay ng ayon sa gusto mo? Dati’y isa siyang matayog na taga-suporta ng mga adhikaing nagtutulak ng kalayaan. Ang bawat isa’y may karapatang mamili. Nakakatawa, gayong hindi na siya naniniwalang may kalayaan nga talaga ngayon. Hindi porke’t hiniling mo’y mapupunta na ito sa iyo. May mga batas ang lipunan, at kapag hindi mo ito sinunda’y itutulak ka nito palabas. May iba ngang nakapagbago na nito. Paminsan imoral ang landas na kanilang tinahak, ngunit tinanggap pa rin sila at hinirang na mga bayani.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi siguro siya magiging isa sa mga ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lalo pang lumakas ang ulan, at tila nasa loob na ng kwarto ang bagyo. Babangon na siya’t papasok. Ngingiti, at aasang sa pagkukunwari ay magiging ayos na ang lahat. Isasara na niya ang bintana. Pero maya-maya na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="navi"&gt;&lt;b&gt;1,248 words.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2262317550273497057?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2262317550273497057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2262317550273497057' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2262317550273497057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2262317550273497057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/07/dissecting-marrows.html' title='Dissecting Marrows'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4247046015987550317</id><published>2010-07-04T00:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-07-04T00:45:09.888+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Google Translations</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So binisita ko ang aking lovely blog gamit ang Google Chrome browser, at may biglang sumingit na notice sa bandang taas. Sabi "This page is in Filipino. Would you like to translate it?" Ang astig diba? ^^. Kaya siyempre, pinindot ko, Translate. And...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagising ko ang mga magulang kong natutulog nang mahimbing sa kabilang kwarto sa katatawa. =)) Cinopy Paste ko ang latest blog entry ko for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy the Conyoness guys and girls. Bwahaha!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The duration that palang bred in writing here, what? Hay ... The difficulty also because many are aware of the site e. Know you have readers. Oh well. Who cares. To hell with you. I write anything I want, and you take care of the living Life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hay. If this just had me write my stories. But not e. I can not conceive of it depends on which languages him write. Is English or Tagalog? Also because e. Anlabo we really, really with me and fight. Here I am, writing in Tagalog, but when I read literature written in Tagalog, my head hurts. Slows down the reading more, because I slow pagprocess Tagalog. So I blame them, we are Filipinos reads the author of foreigners, and not ourselves? And limited vocabulary I still Tagalog. Hay ... And most of the phrases I know is English. See?! SEE?! Even here, I napapataglish. Do not just pedeng then? Bob Ong also made e. yun yung Hay ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this just me? Only when poured quickly write a grudge? Hay ... Hay! And why am I namromroblema?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the meaning of life, right? What Is Love? Do not self-seeking, after all? In why no one really generous person? Even though you treat your friends, you paid what they are being friendly to him. Therefore, after all. And Christ is, he really just want binuwis life salbasyon just for us? Parsimony but also that, because he wants us to love him. Hay ... I do not do. Why do I need to ok it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that I have living just a few weeks ago. There was no meaning to me love, because love just selfishness. And nothing that I understand. I'll just tell me what is the meaning of life. Nakakayanang so I just got up every day is the hope one day I also found the meaning of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or do I sense the life? Usual reason why there is a God is this: When you asked why the sun declining to the east and west, maybe the answer lies because such rotation of the world. And I can even ask why this is the round the world, and maybe the answer can still see me the reason I will not maintindihang the sciences. But because, who nagdikta the laws of physics and nature? Why this world is round, can also make the reverse, and then turn the strong power of God will certainly make her way to live, we are in the mood to room. Hay. I do not know if it pinagsasasabi sense here, but my brain, it makes perfect sense. I just put in word form. The point is, the concept of God was invented because we need to have an excuse. Malay, you just really random the universe, but right more romantic, more soothing, that it all valid? And then the only God? Our products not only fear that we are?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have proof here, just tell, because so much really nakakadepress I thought 'to, and I find that answer.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4247046015987550317?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4247046015987550317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4247046015987550317' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4247046015987550317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4247046015987550317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/07/google-translations.html' title='Google Translations'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2395810774665576327</id><published>2010-06-29T22:18:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-29T22:40:10.439+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang tagal ko na palang di nagsusulat dito nang matino, ano? Hay... Ang hirap din kasi pag maraming may alam ng site mo e. Alam mong may magbabasa. O well. Who cares. To hell with you. Ako'y magsusulat ng kahit ano kong gustuhin, at bahala na kayo sa mga buhay niyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay. Kung ganito lang sana ako magsulat ng mga storya ko. Pero hindi e. Ni hindi ko maisip kung sa aling lengwahe ko siya isusulat. Ingles ba, o Tagalog? Kasi naman e. Anlabo talaga natin, at kasama talaga ako dun. Heto ako, nagsusulat sa Tagalog, pero kapag nagbabasa ako ng mga literaturang isinulat sa Tagalog, sumasakit ulo ko. Mas bumabagal ang pagbabasa ko, kasi mabagal ang pagprocess ko sa Tagalog. Kaya masisisi ko ba sila, na tayong mga Pilipino'y nagbabasa ng mga akda ng mga dayuhan, at hindi ng sarili natin? At limitado lang rin ang bokabularyo ko ng Tagalog. Hay... At karamihan sa mga alam kong phrases ay Ingles. See?! SEE?!!! Kahit dito, napapataglish ako. Hindi ba pedeng ganun na lang? Si Bob Ong naman yun yung ginawa e. Hay...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At ganito na lang ba ako? Mabilis lamang magsulat kapag nagbubuhos ng sama ng loob? Hay... Hay! At bakit ba ako namromroblema?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ano ba ang saysay ng buhay, ha? Ano ba ang pag-ibig? Hindi ba karamutan lang yun? Di ba't wala naman talagang mapagbigay na tao? Kahit pa man ilibre ka ng kaibigan mo, ang bayad mo dun ay ang pagiging kaibigan mo sa kanya. Ganun lang yun. At si Kristo ba, talaga bang binuwis niya lang ang buhay niya para lang sa salbasyon natin? Pero karamutan din yun, kasi gusto niyang mahalin natin siya. Hay... Ewan ko ba. Bakit ba kailangan kong problemahin ito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nalaman ko na wala akong ikinabubuhay ilang linggo lamang ang nakaraan. Nawalan na ng saysay sa akin ang pagmamahal, dahil karamutan lang ang pagmamahal. At wala na akong maintindihan. Kailangan ko lang ng magsasabi sa akin kung ano ba ang saysay ng buhay. Kaya ko lamang nakakayanang bumangon araw-araw ay ang pag-asang balang araw ay matatagpuan ko rin ang saysay ng buhay ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O wala bang saysay ang buhay? Dati ang rason ko kung bakit may Diyos ay ganito: Kapag tinanong mo bakit sumisikat ang araw sa silangan at lumulubog sa kanluran, baka ang sasagutin mo'y kasi ganoon ang pag-ikot ng mundo. At maaari ko pang tanungin bakit ganito ang ikot ng mundo, at baka ang isagot mo pa rin sa aki'y mga di ko na maintindihang rason ng siyensa. Pero kasi, sino ba ang nagdikta ng mga batas ng pisika at ng kalikasan? Bakit kailangang ganito ang ikot ng mundo, pwede rin namang gawing baliktad, at kung ganun nga naman kalakas ang kapangyarihan ng Diyos ay siguradong gagawa siya ng paraan para mabuhay pa rin tayo sa lagay na yun. Hay. Di ko alam kung may sense itong pinagsasasabi ko dito, pero sa utak ko, it makes perfect sense. Di ko lang mailagay sa word form. The point is, ang konsepto ng Diyos ay inimbento dahil sa pangangailangan nating magkaroon ng rason. Malay mo, talagang random lang ang buong kalawakan, pero diba mas romantic, at mas soothing, na isiping may saysay ang lahat? At ganun lang ba ang Diyos? Produkto ng ating takot na wala lang talaga tayo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kung may pangontra kayo dito, pakisabi lang, kasi masyado talagang nakakadepress ang naisip kong 'to, at wala akong mahanap na sagot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2395810774665576327?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2395810774665576327/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2395810774665576327' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2395810774665576327'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2395810774665576327'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/06/help.html' title='Help'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6031327887912801180</id><published>2010-06-20T23:38:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T00:00:11.638+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Itataas niya ang kanyang mga kamay, at papanoorin ang kanyang mga daliri na sumayaw sa liwanag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maganda raw ang kanyang mga daliri. Pino. Mahahaba. Lumilipad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gagamit siya ng keyboard. At ang kanyang mga daliri'y kay liliksi. Ang mga kasama niya'y papanoorin na lamang ang mga ito kaysa tumingin sa monitor ng kompyuter. Tila ba hindi siya nagkokompyuter, kundi nagpapiano. Tumutugtog, ng mga piyesang isinulat ng mga yumao. Mga piyesang pangarap na lamang ngayon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makinis raw ang kanyang kamay. Hindi nakakakilala ng pagod o paghihirap. Mga kamay ng isang senyora.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Itaas niya ang kanyang mga kamay, ang kanyang mga magaganda, makikinis, pino't mapuputing mga kamay. Pinanood niyang sumayaw ang kanyang mga daliri, sa huling pagkakataon. At hindi ba't kay ganda nila?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6031327887912801180?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6031327887912801180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6031327887912801180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6031327887912801180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6031327887912801180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/06/itataas-niya-ang-kanyang-mga-kamay-at.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4628273999937056092</id><published>2010-05-16T15:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T16:09:06.609+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What We Didn't</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The smell of a rain drenched pavement; the smell of freshly cut grass; green leaves turning to brown, then turning to dust; a rainbow; huge scoops of ice cream for two; a warm fire; sunsets, in every possible color; rolled down car windows; smiles; great big balls of fur; crickets chirping in the night; the sea breeze; cloud formations; woolly blankets; bird song; laughter; miles and miles of shining rice paddies stretched out as far as the eye could see; fireworks in the afternoon; pillow fights; a field of red peonies; world wonders; the bright full moon: Just some of the things I would have liked to share with you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4628273999937056092?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4628273999937056092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4628273999937056092' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4628273999937056092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4628273999937056092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-we-didnt.html' title='What We Didn&apos;t'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1844818450661933929</id><published>2010-04-21T00:29:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T00:39:24.886+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaving Things Unsaid</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I know what I'm doing, and I know it's a shame. I was given this life to live. I should try living a bit more. I don't know if trying would make any difference, but at least I'd have tried.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Everyday is a waiting process. I'm just hanging onto those promises of happiness. I don't mind not getting a happily-ever-after, but please, please, just give me something to see that all this waiting has been worth it. I'm sorry for doing nothing but wait. But I don't really feel like changing anything right now. All I do is think pretty thoughts, but in the end I just keep on hurting others.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to write them letters, telling them- No. Telling her, how much I love her, and how sorry I am for all the pain I've caused her. Sorry for having ever doubted your love. I want to let you know that you're the most special person on this earth to me, and I'm sorry if the only reward for that is the ass that is me. Someday I'll say thank you, for everything. I'm sorry for generalizing it like that, but it would simply be impossible for me to enumerate all the things I'm grateful for. Thank you. I love you. I'm sorry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Someday I'll say it all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1844818450661933929?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1844818450661933929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1844818450661933929' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1844818450661933929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1844818450661933929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/04/leaving-things-unsaid.html' title='Leaving Things Unsaid'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6707319711040447899</id><published>2010-04-07T22:53:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T23:34:16.382+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang Ating Storya</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Laging nagsisimula sa isang kislap. Isang tanong ng, "Paano kaya kung...", at ang mga mata mong nakatitig sa malayo, hinahanap ang kasagutan sa dulo ng mundo. Kung maari ko lang sanang pitasin ang kasagutan mula sa ere. Itatapat ko ito sa liwanag at papanoorin natin ang pagsayaw ng mga ilaw nito sa mga pader ng ating mumunting kwarto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit hindi iyon kailanman magiging ganun kadali. Kaya nga't gustong-gusto mong hinahanap ang mga ito, hindi ba? Uupo ka sa isang sulok at bigla ka na lamang mawawala. Mapupuno ang utak mo ng mga tanong, at sa bawat isang masasagot mo, mayroong sampung papalit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Paano kaya kung ito ang mangyari sa kanya? Paano kaya kung ganito ang gawin niya sa kaniya? Anong magiging reaksyon niya? Bakit? Gagawin niya ba talaga iyon? At kung gawin niya nga, anong kalalabasan nun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bawat segundo, paikot-ikot. Pag-iisipan mong lahat. Iintindihin mo ang lahat. Narito nanaman ang pagkain mo, ni hindi mo man lamang tiningnan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magpahinga ka naman. Gusto kitang buhatin at ilatag sa kama. Babalutan kita ng kumot. Gagawin kitang isang higanteng suman. At tatawa ka ng malakas at susubukan mo akong daganan. Ikaw si SuperSuman at narito ka upang puksain ang kasamaan. Ngunit hindi mo ako masasaktan, dahil naroon na akong nakadagan sa iyo, kinikiliti ka hanggang halos mamatay ka na sa katatawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit alam kong hindi iyon mangyayari.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala akong magagawa kundi ipagtimpla ka ng isang baso ng mainit na kape, may dalawang kutsara ng asukal. Gusto mo bang matapatan ng bintilador? Hindi, dahil baka matangay ang mga papel na nakalatag sa iyong harap. Nakayuko ka sa mga ito, at nakakagat ka sa isang bolpen na para bang ito'y isang sigarilyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hatinggabi, dagundong ng orasan. Hinalikan kita sa noo, ngunit patuloy ka pa ring tumingin sa malayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Matulog ka na maya-maya, ha?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6707319711040447899?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6707319711040447899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6707319711040447899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6707319711040447899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6707319711040447899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/04/ang-ating-storya.html' title='Ang Ating Storya'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7086934774706233167</id><published>2010-03-16T01:57:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T02:08:17.101+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Heto ang Iyong Gantimpala</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kaninong mukha ito? Ang hawak niya'y isang papel na salamin. Pangalan niya ang nakasulat sa likod. Damit niya ang suot ng babae sa loob ng litrato. Ngunit sino ito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang mga larawa'y mga segundo lamang ng ating mga buhay. Ang tao'y hindi isang segundo, hindi isang iskulptura na nananatili sa isang segundo. Kaya ano ang pruweba nila na siya ito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pekeng ngiti. Pilit na kaligayahan. Sa huli, lahat rin naman tayo'y nahihirapan. Kaya bakit pinipilit siyang magkunwari ng lipunan? Hindi siya maaaring tumitig sa kawalan ng hindi masasabihang wirdo. Hindi siya maaaring manatiling tahimik kung ayaw niyang masabihang siya'y nakakabagot. Nakakapagod maglakad kapag pinagpipilitan nilang dapat kang maglakad ng tuwid. Lolokohin siya't sasabihing siya ang bahala sa buhay niya, na siya'y malaya, ngunit kapag hindi niya nasunod ang kanilang nais ay maghihimutok naman sila.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakakapagod magpanggap. At ano rin ba ang nakuha niyang kapalit? Isang larawang naglalaman ng isang retokadong mukha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7086934774706233167?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7086934774706233167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7086934774706233167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7086934774706233167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7086934774706233167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/03/heto-ang-iyong-gantimpala.html' title='Heto ang Iyong Gantimpala'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7713637974159560246</id><published>2010-03-13T00:03:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T00:41:38.654+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dyes We Paint With</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's what they splash up on the sky just when the sun's about to disappear. It's the color of the poppies blazing in the fields. It's the ironic color of both love and anger. The color of fresh blood.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's not something I understand. What's the difference between that and green? They're just different shades of the same color for all I see. It's like everyone suddenly decided to call it something else, when it's really just the same thing. Then again, they did that with selfishness and selflessness too, right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to see this thing they call red. RED. To think three letters could be so mysterious. What is this thing they've decided to let everyone else see, everyone but me? I want to know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's the color of fire at its coolest. It's the circle in The Rising Sun. It's the color my mom paints her nails with. It's the apple that led to the banishment of mankind.  It's the color of her lipstick on your suit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The sun is setting now, have you noticed? The sky's ablaze. Hah. I wonder what that looks like to you? Everybody sees things differently, don't they? They don't need this disability to see the world differently, because we all have different eyes, don't we? We're unique like that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So I'll tell you what I see. I see brightness. Everything's bathed in the color of slime, that ooze we used to play with when we were kids. You always held it up to your nose and proclaimed it to be snot. Well, let me tell you, snot and sunsets, they're all pretty much the same to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Glint. The light from the sun glints from the blade. It's curved up in a smile, but I fail to see the humor in it. Maybe you would have laughed, if you'd seen it some other time. But you didn't, when I showed it to you a few minutes ago. You were downright terrified. Red's the color for that too, did you know?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The room is starting to lose its luster. The light's stopped bouncing off of the walls. Guess that means they're drying now. It's something that dries pretty quickly, huh? Blood, I mean.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's splattered all around me. The sunset streams through the windows, and I'm drowning in red. But I don't see it. All I see is snot and your happy face as you chased me around with it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's impossible for you to show me that face again, but I try. I pinch your cheeks and pull them up. It comes out as a smirk, and your wide-open eyes don't help. But I still try. Just as I've tried to see that color they've branded love and anger with all my life. Tears clog up my vision, but no matter. The distortion helps with my illusion.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7713637974159560246?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7713637974159560246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7713637974159560246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7713637974159560246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7713637974159560246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/03/dyes-we-paint-with.html' title='The Dyes We Paint With'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1429510971841271928</id><published>2010-03-08T23:49:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T00:30:02.733+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Choice I Never Had to Make</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Everything always makes sense in books. Not initially, of course. That would be boring. But in the end, you're always given the necessities to come up with an explanation, no matter how vague, about why this happened like that. It's all up to you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Logic. Something troubling me so much right now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I like writing. No... That's not really it. It's not so much that I like writing. I write because I feel like it. Does it give me pleasure, to see letters folding out into words and into sense? Not particularly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't trust in words. This system of communication is messed up. Sometimes I think we probably would have been better off if there were no words in the first place. Then there would be no misunderstandings, no wars, no innocent sentenced to death because some power hungry demon was able to twist the words of law to suit him. Words are helpful, at times. But we lie so much, and we have relied on words so much to function correctly now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't understand why I write, the way I don't understand why I keep on staying up late into the evening, sometimes even morning, when I'm not really doing anything, in fact I'm actually scouring the internet looking for something to do. Huh. I'm procrastinating sleep. Excellent habit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I get confused, and I write. Someone gets confused, and I write. A story pops up in my head, and I write. I want to say something, and instead of speaking, where the receiver just might have the added benefit of body language to aid his understanding, I write.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's not something I understand. I haven't always been like this. It's all those books. They were beautiful, back then. No. They &lt;b&gt;are&lt;/b&gt; beautiful, those worlds smelling of dust and mildew. Every book is a map, a layout of a new world. And I wanted to be one of the mapmakers. I wanted to create my own world. I thought it would be fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And it is, you know. All my initial attempts have been flops. There's a lot of scattered notebooks around here that can prove that. But I kept on, believing that one day, surely one day, that world would be born. My beautifully imperfect idealized world.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah, it's not that I love writing. It just happens to be only medium available to me to achieve the end I envision. And with each new attempt, I get better and better. The world that I once simply dreamed about I can now see, hear, feel. It's near. I can feel it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;But you know, I'm not just a kid anymore. I'm 16, almost an adult. Hell, I'll be in college next year. I've been through a lot, though of course not nearly enough. But I've come to realize that my life must not be lived for myself. People always spew about that crap about how you should choose what makes you happy and all that, but really, I won't be happy as long as this world stays the way it is. I love this world, despite all it's shortcomings. But I want it to change, for the sake of others who haven't and won't be as lucky as me. I can rant all I want about how underprivileged I am, and I am, but the truth is, I'm a very lucky girl. I'm loved. I get to eat three full meals a day, and can grab a snack anytime I want to. I'm on my way to college. I'm talented (at least, I think so). I can smile honestly. I have clothes, and shoes that were bought for P3000+. I have my problems, but I'm still able to smile through all of them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;God has made me strong that way, and it's made me determined to help others who aren't. And that's not something I can accomplish by making up stories in my head, no matter how beguiling and lovely I make them. It's fun, and it's self-satisfying for the most part. It gives me pleasure to make them, but will that pleasure be enough to make me truly happy, when so many people around me aren't?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I'm reminded every time I so much as walk around this subdivision. A homeless dog scouring through the neighborhood. I'm reminded every time I go to church. I'm reminded every time I wake up to find myself lying snugly in a bed with three pillows and a stuffed snowman that's lost one of its mittens but who cares. I'm one lucky bastard, and I'll hate myself forever if I don't take all of my advantages and shape them into something that will help others.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And that's not something I can do by writing. The people that matter don't read anyway. Maybe someday, when I'm old and I've got nothing better to do, I'll be able to make that imaginary world I've been dreaming of bloom. And if anytime my plan fails, I can always write.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;But just now, I want to try this out. Watch me, now. I'll stop crafting up other worlds, and start really living in this one. And maybe, just maybe, somewhere along the way, I'll be able to make a change.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1429510971841271928?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1429510971841271928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1429510971841271928' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1429510971841271928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1429510971841271928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/03/choice-i-never-had-to-make.html' title='The Choice I Never Had to Make'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2433453994905701035</id><published>2010-03-07T16:59:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T17:20:26.342+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I really am fine sometimes, you know?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;OK. I just have to write this down here, because I've found out that telling people directly doesn't work.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I'M FINE.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Really.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I am not a hopeless mental case, much as I may seem to be. Most of the time, I really am fine. But how come this blog's so depressing, you might ask. BECAUSE IT'S MY BLOG. It's where I unload everything bothering me, so I'll be able to think about things clearly and come up with a solution if possible. It gives me this sensation of being relieved of things I'd rather not think about. This blog is a record of things I'd rather not think about, and that's why it's depressing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So they're together, that guy I've written so many things about, and the girl he's been in love with since the first year. They're happy. I'm happy for them. Believe me, I am. Sometimes I've wondered what it would be like if he ended up with me, but really, it's not a pain I want to inflict on others just yet. I'm still developing, and I want to be a better person before stuff like that happens to me. So yes, I've never taken that thought seriously. It's too scary.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Why doesn't anybody believe me? So I had a crush on him. Big deal. It's long over. People get crushes all the time. What's the difference with me? Ah, but maybe this is also my fault, going around labeling this infatuation as love. Forgive me. I honestly didn't know the difference. I know better now, and I promise to be wise from now on.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So believe me when I say I'm fine. The reason I tend to avoid them is not because it hurts me. On the contrary, I don't feel anything. And it's confusing. My thoughts get all confused. Why no pain? What's with this? Where'd all that time mooning over this guy go? My mind does somersaults, and I keep on wondering. I get so confused. Then someone from somewhere who knows about the guy suddenly looks at me with pitying eyes. Hateful, unnecessary sympathy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And that's why I avoid them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*sigh* I took the time to write this down, but I wonder if anyone will believe me. I'm sorry that I never tell anyone anything, but really, what's there to tell? My days are pretty dull, you know. That's why I love stories and imagining things so much. Which is where this trouble began, I guess.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Well, that's pretty much it. I hope I don't get any more pitying stares until graduation arrives.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2433453994905701035?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2433453994905701035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2433453994905701035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2433453994905701035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2433453994905701035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-really-am-fine-sometimes-you-know.html' title='I really am fine sometimes, you know?'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6750645007080405584</id><published>2010-02-26T02:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T02:39:13.575+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nagbabakasakali Lang</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto kitang makilala. Ano ang mga iniisip mo? Bakit mo iniisip ang mga ganoong bagay? Paano mo nagagawa ang mga ginagawa mo? Ano ang tingin mo sakin?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pasensya na, dahil alam ko namang pagtapos ng high school ay wala ka na rin namang balak na makipag-usap pa sakin, kasi buwisit naman talaga ako e (lalo na 'pag kasama kita, kasi kung anu-anong kalokohan ang nagagawa ko. masyado akong nagiging self-concious). Pasensya na, dahil siguro magiging abala lang ako para sa 'yo. Pero kung pwede lang sana, kung maaari lang talaga...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pwede pa ba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isa akong babaeng walang isip, dahil lagi akong nagkakagusto sa lalaking may gusto na sa iba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6750645007080405584?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6750645007080405584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6750645007080405584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6750645007080405584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6750645007080405584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/02/nagbabakasakali-lang.html' title='Nagbabakasakali Lang'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5338994366324362495</id><published>2010-02-14T22:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T22:16:28.675+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Digestive Track</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I've always wanted to have a choice, and hear they are, screaming at me like a soprano in labor, and I have no idea what to do. Which one do I choose? How can I choose? I like one, but I also like the other. I'd be able to live with either. But to pick one is to lose another. And I don't want that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;A community. Pollution free. A walk through a maze of greenery. Cura personalis. Magis. Clean CRs. People like me. The pen and paper, forever in my hands.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;center&gt;VS.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Friends. Expectations. Money. Hopes. Dreams. Parents. Challenging puzzles written in machine language.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to be happy. But this isn't a matter of happiness. I'll be happy with either.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Am I to inspire, or am I to do?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's the pen against lightning, and for some strange reason, they're tied at first.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sometimes, I'd think I already have the answer, but then something comes along, and my mind goes back to being a muddle. It hasn't taken a lot for me to realize that it's really just an icky skull-shaped intestine stuck in my head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5338994366324362495?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5338994366324362495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5338994366324362495' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5338994366324362495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5338994366324362495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/02/digestive-track.html' title='Digestive Track'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2287006659509797417</id><published>2010-02-09T20:49:00.006+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T21:12:51.583+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pagtitiis</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Umuulan. Ang mundo sa paligid mo'y isang paikot na pader ng ulan. Likidong mga ulap na walang tigil sa pagpatak. Takpan mo man ang iyong mga tainga ay hindi mo pa rin mapipigilan ang kanilang kalansag.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala kang takas, dahil maliban sa pader ng tubig ay napapaligiran ka ng apat na pader ng iyong silid-aralan. Nakaharang ang mga silyang kahoy ng iyong mgaa kaklase, at ang pinakamaliit na kamot ay nakatatawag sa atensyon ng iyong guro.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang tinig ng mga nalunod ay sumisigaw at paulit-ulit na nagpapaalala sa iyo, "Wala ka nang kawala. Wala! WALA!" Takpan mo man ang iyong mga tainga ay hindi mo mapipigilan ang pinagsanib na pwersa ng alon at buhawi.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Binibilang mo ang mga segundo. Ngunit mga segundo ba 'tong mga 'to, o mga milenya na? Hindi mo na alam. Kahit ang oras ay pinagtaksilan ka na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sinubukan mong basahin ang librong nasa harap mo, na dapat mo naman talagang ginagawa. Ngunit kailan pa naging alibata ang laman ng mga libro ngayon?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ikutin ang mga hinlalaki habang iniiwasan silang magbangga, paulit-ulit, pabilis nang pabilis. Panoorin ang pag-ikot ng elisi sa kisame. Titigan ang crush na nakagat sa bolpen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit kahit iyon ay hindi nakayang ibahin ang iyong pag-iisip. Lahat na ng estratehiya, nagawa mo na. At ngayon, alam mong wala nang makakapigil pa sa kanila. Panahon na upang sumuko. Tapos na ang iyong kalbaryo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit, sandali! Isang kampanang dumadagungdong sa lahat ng panig ng eskwelahan. Isang himala! Kalayaan!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kumaripas ka ng takbo. Wala ka nang pakialam kung sino ang mabangga mo. Basta takbo! Sugod! Nalalapit na ang iyong destinasyon, ang iyong salbasyon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Itinulak mo ang pintuan. Sa tunog na ginawa nito nang tamaan nito ang pader ay magbabayad ka na siguro ng multa sa Property. Ngunit wala ka nang pakialam. Dahil ayan na siya, nasa iyong tapat, at ligtas ka na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Itaas ang palda, ibaba ang salawal. Nanahimik na ang mga sigaw, nalunod na ng agos ng kapayapaan na dumadaloy mula sa iyo. Nakahinga ka na ng malalim.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2287006659509797417?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2287006659509797417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2287006659509797417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2287006659509797417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2287006659509797417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/02/pagtitiis.html' title='Pagtitiis'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6575298666918884383</id><published>2010-02-04T15:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T15:20:55.367+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang E-Lib naming Pundido</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ako ngayon ay nasa E-lib ng aming school. E-lib kasi, guess what? May computer kami dito! Akalain mo un?! Haha. Tapos ok lang maglaro dito, wala nga lang speakers, pero may headphones din naman upon request. O diba?! Saya dito, grabe!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. As if naman kasi nagbubukas 'tong lugar na 'to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Jackpot lang at naabutan kong bukas 'to. Ilang buwan ko nang inaabangan na magbukas 'tong E-lib na 'to, kasi dito lang ang may libreng internet, at naka-aircon pa! Grabe talaga. Kundi ka lang pundido, E-lib. Kundi ka lang pundido at laging nakapadlock, mamahalin na kita.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6575298666918884383?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6575298666918884383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6575298666918884383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6575298666918884383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6575298666918884383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/02/ang-e-lib-naming-pundido.html' title='Ang E-Lib naming Pundido'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3746254234450075858</id><published>2010-02-03T23:29:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T23:43:00.801+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pakiusap Lang</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam kung ano ang tinatago ko. Lagi nila akong sinasabihan na masyado akong tahimik. Hindi dahil sa hindi ako umiimik, pero mas gusto ko ngang manahimik na lang kaysa magsalita, pero maingay naman ako kapag gusto ko e. Hindi ako ganoon klaseng tahimik.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ano bang nangyari at naging ganito ako? Gusto kong ikwento ang lahat sa inyo, ang lahat-lahat, pero tuwing susubukan ko, hindi ko na maalala kung ano ang gusto kong ikwento. Hindi ko siya mailagay sa mga salita, at hindi ko naman siya kayang maipakita sa inyo. Ano ba ang problema ko?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam. Wala akong alam. Naghahanap ako ng mapapaghawakan, pero wala akong mahagilap. At bakit pati kayo, hindi ko maabot, kahit na gustong gusto ko? Ano ba ang pumipigil sakin?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto kong umiyak, pero hindi na ako nahihimasmasan ng mga luha. Magkakasipon lang ako, pero hindi na gagaan ang loob ko tulad nung bata pa ako. Hindi na ganoon kasimple ang lahat. Kelan pa ba ako nagbago?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Araw-araw, wala akong ginawa kundi maghintay para sa isang bagay na di ko alam kung ano. Naghahanap ako ng iba't-ibang paraan para maligtas ang sarili ko, pero wala akong mahanap. At lumalalim lamang ang bangin. At nilalamon na ako ng kawalan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala akong maramdaman kundi kalungkutan. Kahit pa ngumiti ako, malungkot parin ako. Bakit ba hindi ko 'to masabi sa inyo, kahit pa tinatanong niyo naman ako kung ano ang problema? Pero, ano nga ba ang problema?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam. Saan ba ako nagkukulang. Pinanganak tayong hindi buo, alam ko yun, pero mas marami akong kulang kaysa sa iba. At hindi ko na maalala kung bakit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto kong patahimikin ang utak ko. Ang tumigil na sa pag-iisip ng mga bagay na hindi naman makakatulong sa iba. Gawin niyong blanko ang isipan ko. Paki-usap lang. Sawang-sawa na ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam kung ano pang magagawa ko. Tulungan niyo ako. Tulungan niyo ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3746254234450075858?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3746254234450075858/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3746254234450075858' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3746254234450075858'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3746254234450075858'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/02/pakiusap-lang.html' title='Pakiusap Lang'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5572180931985596946</id><published>2010-01-21T23:35:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T23:39:30.846+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Isang Paalala</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi pa handa ang Pilipinas sa rebolusyon. Ito ang sinagot ni Rizal nang sabihan siya ng planong paghihimagsik ng KKK. Hindi pa raw hinog ang bunga. Ngunit nag-alsa pa rin tayo, at nagsipagsigawan ng Kalayaan! sa mga kalye ng Cavite. Ilang araw matapos ay sakop nanaman tayo ng mga banyaga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sinabihan tayong hindi pa tayo handa, ngunit lumaban pa rin tayo. Iyon kaya ang pagkakamali natin? Maaari kayang ito ang dahilan kung bakit hanggang ngayo’y kay gulo pa rin dito sa ating bansa?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi pa tayo handa noon dahil wala tayong sapat na mga armas, at walang natatanging samahan na nagrerepresenta sa ating bansa. Kanya-kanya ang labanan noon, at hindi naging iba dito ang KKK. Nagtagumpay nga ba ang KKK? Alam nating sa mga Amerikano sumuko ang mga Espanyol, at kahit pa sabihin nating tayo ang nag-alay ng dugo para sa nais nating kalayaan, dahil sa ginawang ito ng mga Espanyol ay hindi natin masasabing tayo’y nagtagumpay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kaya ba ganito tayo ngayon, hanggang ngayon, hindi pa rin isa? Matapos ang kayraming mga siglo, hiwa-hiwalay parin. Nanlalait sa kapwa, sumasamba sa mga banyaga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi pa handang lumaya ang Pilipinas. Ang anumang tsansa na maaaring hindi ito totoo ay sinira ng mga Amerikano at ng ideolohiya nilang demokratiko. Masyado nila tayong naakit sa kanilang “malayang gobyerno”, na tayo ngayo’y “malalaya nang mga indibidwal, na may mga karapatan”, na hindi natin nakitang onti-onti na pala nila tayong kinukulong bilang maging ibon sa kanilang hawla. At heto pa rin tayo ngayon, umaawit para lamang sa kanila at sa ating mga pangangailangan, hindi para sa bayan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Paano ba tayo babangon sa pagkakamali nating kalahating milenyo na ang tanda? Hindi ko alam. Ni hindi ko alam kung posible pa ba itong mangyari. Ang alam ko lang ay hindi ako kailanman titigil sa paghahanap ng kasagutan. Maaaring walang kasagutan, pero patuloy parin akong maghahanap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ko pa ba pinoproblema ‘to? Kung iisipin naman, hindi naman talaga ganoon kaganda ang buhay ko dito sa bansang ‘to e. Kailangan ko pang maghirap kung nais kong alalahanin ang mga mumunting kasiyahan na tila mga tuldok lamang ng mga bituin sa mausok na gabi ng siyudad. Wala akong utang na dapat tanawin. Kaya bakit pinoproblema ko parin ito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dahil malungkot man ang buhay ko, naging masaya rin naman ito paminsan. At naging maganda. May kagandahan sa kalungkutan, at hindi ko yun matututunan kung hindi dahil sa bansang ito. Perpekto ang imperpekto, at magaling ang karaniwang tao. Natuto kong ngumiti sa harap ng anumang pagsubok, at gamit ang tunay na mga ngiti. Nalaman ko kung ano ang mahalaga sa akin. Natutunan kong isipin din naman ang iba paminsan. At ang kapaligiran kong puno ng usok at itim, kung wala noon ay hindi ko malalaman kung gaano kaganda ang kapaligiran puno ng mga puno at maaaliwalas na hangin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ha, andami kong pinagsasabi, pero parang wala naman dito ang totoong dahilan. Wala kasi talagang dahilan. Ganun naman daw talaga ang tunay na pag-ibig. Hindi rasonable.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mahal ko ‘tong bansang ‘to. Kaya handa ko siyang iwan, siya at ang mga mahal ko sa buhay, upang mag-aral sa ibang bansa, para mas marami akong matutunan. Lilipunin ko ang lahat ng kaalaman sa mundo at babalik ako dito, isang tapat na tagapaglingkod. Gusto kong tumanda at makagawa ng isang nakakahanga’t natatanging bagay para itututuro ng mga tao ang Pilipinas at sasabihin nila, “Uy, ang galing naman ng mga Pilipino.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nanginginig ang mga kamay ko habang sinusulat ko ang mga ito. Excited na ako. Gusto ko nang magkatotoo ang tanging pangarap ko na ito. Gusto kitang bumangon Pilipinas, at patawad na’t ito lamang ang magagawa ko. Hindi ako pwedeng maglunsad ng kudeta dahil walang koordinasyon ang katawan ko. Hindi ko maaaring pakainin ang lahat ng mga nagugutom sa iyong mga isla, dahil hindi ko sila maaabot lahat. Ngunit pagbubutihan ko parin, at hahanapin ko ang landas ko patungo sa iyong kaunlaran, at hihikayatin ang lahat ng pwede na sumali sa layunin ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isa talaga akong masokista ano? Mana siguro sa Lola. Pero ok lang saking nasasaktan. Alam ko na kung paano masaktan, kaya may mga panangga na ako dito. Paulit-ulit mo lang ako saktan, at mas magugustuhan ko pa yun, dahil mas mapapatunayan lamang nito ang pagmamahal ko para sa iyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5572180931985596946?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5572180931985596946/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5572180931985596946' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5572180931985596946'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5572180931985596946'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/01/isang-paalala.html' title='Isang Paalala'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4852063129281690456</id><published>2010-01-01T01:34:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T01:49:03.703+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Media Noche</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Talagang magkasunod ang post ng Christmas at New Year. Medyo naging busy kasi ako for the past few days, pero di ko na ikekwento kung bakit. :P Nyaha. Mamatay kayo sa curiosity~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mga 1:30 na ngayon, at pinagdedebatihan ko kung maliligo pa ba ako bago matulog. Naligo ako ng mga 3:00, pero nanood kami ng sine, at alam naman nating hindi sanitary heaven ang mga sinehan. Pero nakakatamad na kasi e. *sigh* Tapos ang lamig lamig pa. *sigh* Sana European na lang ako, pero hot parin ako kahit hindi ako naliligo. :)) Di nga, diba? Ang sexy ng tingin natin sa Europeans. I for one find a British accent incredibly SMEXY.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;:)) Grabe ah. First post ko 'to for the year 2010, ito yung mga pinagsususulat ko. Kunwari na lang uminom ako ng alak (lie.) at lasing na ako ngayon (lie.), kaya kung anu-ano na lang pinagsususulat ko (truth.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O sige. Hrmmm. Ano kaya? To bathe or to stink? Hrmhrm. That is the question.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah, onga pala. ANG GANDA NG FIREWORKS KANINA! Every year kasi nag-neNew Year kami dito sa De la Cruz compound. May four floors siya (isang pamilya per floor), tapos may rooftop. Aakyat kami sa rooftop taon-taon, tapos dun namin panonoorin yung fireworks. Last year malungkot e, kasi masyadong marami ang nadala sa mga kapahamakang maaaring idulot ng mga paputok. Marami sigurong nalungkot tulad namin, kaya ngayon, ANDAMING PAPUTOK. YAHOOO!!! ANG SAYA-SAYA! Naka-OOOOOO na yung mga bibig namin habang may mga rumaragasang firetruck sa kalye sa baba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;GAH. Sige na nga. Maliligo na nga ako. :)) Gagawin ko na lang siyang parang symbolism. The washing away of the past. O, diba?! Tsaring. Oo, ganyan ako katamad maliligo. Mag-iimbento pa ako ng kung anong superstition para lang mahila ang sarili ko na pumasok sa banyo. Well, that's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;HOPE TO SEE YOU SOON THIS 2010!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4852063129281690456?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4852063129281690456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4852063129281690456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4852063129281690456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4852063129281690456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2010/01/media-noche.html' title='Media Noche'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1131781805167357434</id><published>2009-12-25T00:25:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-25T00:28:25.230+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drummer Boys Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;MERRY CHRISTMAS PEOPLES!!!  \(^-^)/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;gayahin ko na rin si Frances. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HAPPY BDAY, BRO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; hehe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1131781805167357434?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1131781805167357434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1131781805167357434' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1131781805167357434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1131781805167357434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/drummer-boys-now.html' title='Drummer Boys Now'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7582730914994612616</id><published>2009-12-24T20:47:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T20:59:04.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Project # 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hrmhrm. At eto na nga. Ang aking first project as a manga editor ay........... *tsantsararan!* HARUNA! by Nakahara Aya (author ng Lovely Complex).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mga.. 3 volumes? lang ata itong manga na 'to, so medyo maikli siya. hehe. Ok lang. At least hindi ako mabibitin sa kakahintay sa continuation. Pero baka bigla na lang akong mag-withdrawal symptoms sa dulo, parang nung binasa ko yung Beast Master.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;......&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;WAH! I WANT MORE OF BEAST MASTER!!! x_x (pareho sila ng mangaka ng Dengeki Daisy, kaya ko siya binasa. wah........ bakit two volumes ka lang....... GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY, I SAY!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Well, wala namang magagawa yun. :(. So back to the topic.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;Ito yung mga pinapili saking manga na i-edit:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; &lt;u&gt;Benkyou Shinasai&lt;/u&gt; by Nakahara Aya&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; &lt;u&gt;Hanada&lt;/u&gt; by Nakahara Aya&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; &lt;u&gt;Loose Leaf&lt;/u&gt; Mochida Aki&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; &lt;u&gt;Love! Love! Love!&lt;/u&gt; by Nakahara Aya&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;" class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; &lt;u&gt;Sumire wa Blue&lt;/u&gt; by Obata Yuuki&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala akong magawa dito sa bahay, kaya binasa ko sila isa-isa. (hoho. boredom is actually a very powerful tool.) At ang pinakanagustuhan ko ay ang Hanada. Di ko rin ma-explain bakit. :)). Basahin niyo na lang din.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So far, two chapters pa lang ang narerelease ng Ochibichan. Clickie &lt;a href="http://www.mangafox.com/manga/hanada/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hah, and so the journey begins. Wish me luck, at sana ma-edit ko 'to ng maayos hanggang sa huli!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7582730914994612616?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7582730914994612616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7582730914994612616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7582730914994612616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7582730914994612616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/project-1.html' title='Project # 1'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7413880650468900698</id><published>2009-12-23T11:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T11:59:39.740+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebration now, COME ON!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nyahahaha. Binabalaan ko na kayo. Hyper ako ngayon, kaya maghanda na kayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ako hyper? Hrmhrm. Two reasons:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;One&lt;/b&gt;... PASADO AKO SA EDITOR TEST! NYAHA! YEY! YAHOO! YOSH! (hmm. ngayon ko lang napansin. ang dami palang ! expressions na nagsisimula sa Y no? Parang Ysabel! O diba? Mapapaexclaim ka talaga ng Ysabel! Kasi napaka-special nung name. Nyahaha. Binalaan ko na kayo.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So ayun. Nagulat din talaga ako nung natanggap ako. Akalain mo yun? Well, mayabang naman ako enough para isiping magaling ako mag-Photoshop (uy, proud ako dito. Ito lang ang asset ko na ako lang talaga ang nagdevelop, na walang tulong sa iba. Yung piano, may teacher. Yung writing... may tulong sa critiques? Considered pagtuturo ba yun? Hrm. Not really, I guess. Hooh, ang hangin sa kwartong 'to ngayon ah. :)) ) Pero syempre, iba pa rin talaga yung matanggap ka sa pinag-aplayan mo. Hah. Hindi nasayang yung ilang araw ng paghihirap ko sa pag-eedit. Gusto ko sanang ipost dito yung test ko, kaso nga lang di ako sure kung pwede. I-pm niyo na lang ako kung curious lang kayo kung ano yung ginawa ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Well, isa lang masasabi ko sa inyo. ANG HIRAP pala maging manga editor. Madalas yung ibibigay sayong RAWs e yung di maayos yung pagkakascan. May gutter sa gilid (yung dark shadow kapag hindi flat yung page). Masyadong light, o masyadong dark (mas madaling ayusin yung masyadong light). Madumi yung page. Tapos yun pa mismong pag-eedit. Madali lang yung text in bubbles. Buburahin mo lang tapos papatungan mo. Pero yung SFX.... GAH. Nakakamatay. X(. Icloclone mo pa yung background, tapos papatungan mo unti-unti. GAH. Nanginig ako bigla. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero still, masaya ako sa natanggap kong trabaho. Finally, something to do! :)) At sa wakas, magiging part na rin ako nitong manga business na mahal na mahal ko. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Di ko pa alam kung anong series ang ibibigay nila sakin, pero ano pa man yun, pagbubutihan ko! Aja! Pakisupport rin yung i-eedit ko. Haha. Yun lang. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah, onga pala. May isa pang magandang bagay ngayon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Two&lt;/b&gt;... THIS IS MY 100TH POST! Wah XD. Ang saya ng feeling. Di ko aakalaing aabot ako sa ganitong stage. Haha. Kadalasan kasi by about 50 posts mawawalan na ako ng gana sa blog ko. Hehe. Napamahal na kasi sakin 'tong site na 'to e. Ang weird no? Ito nga yung site ko na may pinaka-onting bumibisita, pero ito parin yung pinakaminahal ko. Weee. I love you, blog. :3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So ayun, masyado na atang mahaba itong post na 'to. Minamadali na ako ni Solomon. :)). Sige. 'Til the 101st post. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7413880650468900698?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7413880650468900698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7413880650468900698' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7413880650468900698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7413880650468900698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/celebration-now-come-on.html' title='Celebration now, COME ON!'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-656141172168424224</id><published>2009-12-22T22:08:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T22:22:12.024+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Be</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I miss you. I miss your angsty posts, the way they always sound like something from Lovely Bones. Some of it &lt;i&gt;is&lt;/i&gt; Lovely Bones, and it's annoying the way you quote directly without credit, passing it off as your own wording. But it's more annoying the way you've stopped writing anything anymore.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Your blog is now full of nothing but pictures of you smiling with your college barkada in "fun" gimmicks here and there. I miss your anger. I miss the way you vent out all your emotions like it's the end of the world.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hah. Ain't I evil? I'd rather you talked about Suffering than Happiness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Maybe because I know it's not Happiness. It's called Distraction. There's a big difference between the two, but people never seem to notice most of the time. Ah, but of course. They're distracted.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I wonder when you'll wake up. Maybe you never will. That's probably good too. That's a thing I did whenever I happened to get a bloody scrape when I was a kid. Think of something else. Think of the ice cream they'll console you with for being such a bloody mess. The pain doesn't go away, but at least you'll be able to smile then, right?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;But I'm no longer a kid. I'm old enough now to know that pain can be good. And you're years older than me. Why can't you see it too?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;You're probably tired of it by now, that's why you're masking it. Your scrape is a scar. You just do your best to live with it, hidden beneath layers of cloth. Masks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Smiling. In your blog photos your always smiling. Really, you're one of the vainest people I know. How natural you look with that smile. Almost like you've practiced smiling, rehearsed happiness.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wake up. Please wake up. I'd rather see your angst than your smile, because at least then I know it's you. I'm tired of people lying. Please. Just be the truth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-656141172168424224?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/656141172168424224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=656141172168424224' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/656141172168424224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/656141172168424224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/be.html' title='Be'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1449269044340569632</id><published>2009-12-21T11:56:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T12:03:25.659+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Me Seme, You Uke</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ugh. Why did I take this test? 'Di ko rin maintindihan. :)) &lt;b&gt;SEME RULES!!!&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;XD&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.semeuke.com/images/sgk.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;i&gt;You are a Chibi Seme!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;You are the seme in disguise. Able to fit in and get along with uke and seme alike, you are able to get close to the uke on their level before exerting your dominance. This makes you at times manipulative and able to fool others about your true seme nature. Because of your harmless appearance, it takes the flamboyant Flaming Uke to match wits and really bring out your aggressive side to expose you for the seme that you are. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Most compatible with:&lt;/b&gt; Flaming Uke, Badass Uke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Least compatible with:&lt;/b&gt; Dramatic Uke&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What seme or uke are you? Take the experience at &lt;a href="http://www.semeuke.com/" target="_blank"&gt;SemeUke.com&lt;/a&gt;, or find merchandise &lt;a href="http://www.gesshoku.org/" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1449269044340569632?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1449269044340569632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1449269044340569632' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1449269044340569632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1449269044340569632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/me-seme-you-uke.html' title='Me Seme, You Uke'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4687367385592082514</id><published>2009-12-19T00:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T00:16:28.644+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Test of Patience</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;OK, gabing-gabi na at dapat kanina pa (or kahapon pa) ako tulog dahil may maaga akong pupuntahan bukas, pero heh. Manahimik kayong mga nagkakalat ng sleeping powder. Magbloblog lang ako, sandali lang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So lately, nag-indulge nanaman ako sa aking paboritong pastime, at ito ay ang pagbabasa at panonood ng iba't-ibang kwento. Ang latest ay ang.... *tsantsararan~* Dengeki Daisy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Actually, ilang araw bago mag-Christmas break, nirecommend na sakin nina Frances at Jolina itong manga na 'to. Pero medyo nakalamutan ko rin what with the Carolfest and all the usual katsorvahan bago mag-break. (Yun bang pinagsisiksikan ang lahat ng kailangang matapos sa loob ng iilang araw lamang.) Naalala ko lang siya habang nagsusurf sa forum ng MangaFox. Paulit-ulit kong nakikita ang pare-parehong characters, so nagtaka rin ako 'bat parang napakasikat naman ng mangang 'to. Binasa ko ung nakasulat, tapos biglang nagclick sa utak ko na may sinabing something Daisy na manga sina Jolenz, so dahil wala naman akong ginagawa, sinimulan kong basahin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*&lt;i&gt;doot&lt;/i&gt;* *&lt;i&gt;doot&lt;/i&gt;*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Buti na lang nga at binasa ko. Haha. Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. ANG GANDA NIYA! Ok, medyo nagsusupress ako dahil ayaw kong nagflaflail, pero grabe talaga. ANG GANDA. WAH. SOBRA. Sa sobrang ganda niya, alam niyo bang nag-apply ako na maging editor ng &lt;a href="http://ochibichan.net/"&gt;Ochibichan-scan&lt;/a&gt;, kasi hindi ako makapaghintay para sa susunod na chapter? Ahaha. Tingin ko rin naman wala akong magagawa ngayong Christmas break, at dahil curious rin ako kung pano ba nila ginagawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Meron silang Editor test na dinownload ko kanina. Matatapos ko siguro 'to bukas, ay mamaya pala, pa, kasi nga antok na rin ako. Haha. In fairness. Mahirap rin palang trabaho ito. Isang page yata ay 30 mins. kong ginagawa. Grabe yung mga SFX. Pero at least, natututo ako along the way. Sabi nga nila, sanayan lang 'to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So, ayun lang. Sharing lang yun. Sana pumasa ako sa test nila, kasi gusto ko na talagang basahin yung susunod na chapter. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4687367385592082514?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4687367385592082514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4687367385592082514' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4687367385592082514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4687367385592082514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/test-of-patience.html' title='Test of Patience'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-317554873705732091</id><published>2009-12-15T21:21:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T21:45:46.885+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paghihiganti</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakita mo na ba akong magalit? Ewan ko. Malamang hindi. Siguro nakita mo na rin akong mapikon. Pero magalit? Malabong mangyari.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Maraming tao ang nagpipigil ng galit. Ang ilan sa kanila'y dahil iniingatan ang puso, ang ila'y dahil nakakapagod magalit, at ang iba'y dahil ayaw lang talagang nagagalit. Marami pa sigurong ibang dahilan, pero heto na lang ang sasabihin ko: ang iba'y dahil hindi nila alam kung anong gagawin nila pag nagalit sila. Kinabibilangan ko ang grupong ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mahina ako, totoo. Kapag nagsuntukan tayo, parang tiyak nang ako ang magiging bugbog-sarado. Hindi ako sanay sa sakit ng katawan. Pero lahat niyan nakakalimutan ko kapag galit ako. Tulag nga ng sabi ni Frank McCourt, bigla na lang mandidilim ang paligid mo, at ang tanging maiiwan sa utak mo ay ang pagkauhaw sa sakit at dugo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nandilim na ang paligid ko, ngunit hindi ako kailanman makakasakit. Dahil ang kinasusuklaman ko'y ang sarili ko. Nabubuhay ako araw-araw nang may paninibugho sa lahat ng mga kamalian ko, sa lahat ng mga kasalanan ko sa iba na kakayanan ko namang maiwasan kung hindi lang talaga ako masama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit nga ba ang sama ko? Nasasaktan na ang iba, tumatawa pa rin ako. Baka nga tumatawa ako kasi may nasasaktan. Baka sadista't masokista lang talaga ako. Tanggap ko nang imperpekto ang mundo, kaya hinahanapan ko na lang ng kaligayahan at kagandahan ang mga kahirapan at kapangitan dito. Kung ganito lang sana kasimple ang eksplanasyon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto ko naman talaga ang ikabubuti ng mga tao e. Sa kondisyong hindi ako mapapasama. O heto, pagkain, kasi may pagkain pa naman ako e. Ganun ba. Bakit ba ganun? Wala akong konsiderasyon sa iba. Pero sabi nila, mahalin muna ang sarili bago ang kapwa. Pero sabi rin nila, mahalin ang kapwa nang higit pa sa sarili. Pano nagagawa ng dalawang katotohanan na salungatin ang isa't-isa?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kinasusuklaman ko ang sarili ko. Kaya ayaw kong nakikita ang sarili ko sa salamin. Nakikita ko ang nagbabalatkayong demonyo na namamahay sa aking anino. Maliwanag, kaya't siya'y lumilitaw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kinasusuklaman ko ang sarili ko. Maraming mga panahon na bigla na lang akong mapapasorry sa hangin. Kay rami kong kasalanan, at hanggang ngayo'y hindi pa rin ako natututo. Sinasaktan ko palagi ang mga taong pinakamalapit sa akin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero hindi ko magagawang saktan ang sarili ko dahil ayoko pang mamatay. Marami pa akong kelangan gawin bago ako mamatay. Bakit? Eto na ba ang buhay ko, ang mamuhay bilang salot sa lipunan? Hindi. May balak sila sa akin. At handa akong tuparin iyon, kahit pa mahirap, kahit pa madugo, para unti-unti'y mapapatay ko na rin ang sarili ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-317554873705732091?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/317554873705732091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=317554873705732091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/317554873705732091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/317554873705732091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/12/paghihiganti.html' title='Paghihiganti'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2940898361288649906</id><published>2009-11-22T12:04:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T12:16:11.833+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Stupidity of It All</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They once launched a thousand ships to fight for beauty and nutmeg.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They tell you to grow up and when you do, they start wishing you wouldn't.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They have two faces: one smiling in front of you, one frowning and grumbling behind your back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They have nearly nothing but they still keep on giving.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They love what they cannot have the most.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They wish for immortality when they all know they're going to die.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They call on death but scream for life when the darkness comes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They keep on making babies that would be as stupid as them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They burn down the forests that once gave them life.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They won't use words to say what they want directly.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They hug their children close and tell them, "It's all going to be fine," when it's not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They hate what are most like them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The cannot love without hating.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;People are stupid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They're so beautiful and they don't even know it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2940898361288649906?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2940898361288649906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2940898361288649906' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2940898361288649906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2940898361288649906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/11/stupidity-of-it-all.html' title='The Stupidity of It All'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3947576904632754785</id><published>2009-11-14T22:59:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T23:14:41.179+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ako'y Pag-asa, Hindi Palaasa.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakatingin siya sa malayo, naghihintay. Para saan? Sa isang himalang hindi darating.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Walang pag-asa sa lugar na ito. Walang pakiusap ang sasagutin. Hindi ko sinabing papayagan. Sabi ko'y sasagutin. Dahil walang nakakarinig sayo. Walang iba sa lugar na ito kung hindi ikaw, at pag lingon mo sa baba'y makikita mo na pati ikaw ay onti-onti na ring nawawala. Naglalaho sa kalawakan ng kawalan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Walang pag-asa kahit pa umasa ka, dahil kinain na ito ng rasyonalisasyon at emosyon. Masakit ang umasa kaya't pinatay na ito ng puso. Hindi lohikal ang pag-asa kaya't pinatay na ito ng rasyonalisasyon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit heto siya't nakatitig parin sa malayo, naghihintay sa isang himalang hindi darating. Umaasa sa wala, dahil wala nang pag-asa. At ang lahat ng mga salita sa kanyang utak ay bumabaliktad, umuulit, tumitiklop sa gitna, paliit nang paliit, gaano karaming beses mo kaya pwede itiklop ang mga salita? Isang katotohanan: hindi mo matitiklop nang higit sa walong beses ang isang papel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Walang pag-asa ngunit may katotohanan. Isang katotohanan: Nangako siya sa kanya. Isa pang katotohanan: Lagi niyang pinag-iingatan ang kanyang mga pangako. Kaya't darating siya. Heto na ang kanyang anino, papalapit, papalapit. Kumurap siya at bumalik ang anino sa pagiging gabi. Ang gabi na nakalatag sa mundo na walang sinag ng buwan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kinukutya siya ng kadiliman. Nagsasabing, sige, sige, umasa ka pa, siga. Umasa ka pa, at paulit-ulit naming ipapakita ang kanyang anino sayo, at paulit-ulit lamang mabibiyak ang iyong puso tuwing aalisin muli namin ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi niya pinansin ang kadiliman. Isa siyang pagong na nagbubuhat sa bigat ng buong mundo, at kaya niya itong gamiting panangga sa buong mundo. Pagkat siya'y may pag-asa, at kinain na ng pag-asa ang kalungkutan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kaya't siyang naghintay. Patuloy siyang naghintay. Maghihintay siya kahit pa anurin siya ng buhay man o kamatayan. Dahil hindi na siya tao, ngunit siya ang pag-asa. At patuloy siyang mabubuhay, dahil kahit kainin pa siya'y malilipat lamang siya sa tiyan, at doon mamamalagi. Naroon siya, sa kawalan. Makikita ang pag-asa sa kawalan, at ito ang magsisilbing buwan, gabay, hawakan sa agos ng buhay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3947576904632754785?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3947576904632754785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3947576904632754785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3947576904632754785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3947576904632754785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/11/akoy-pag-asa-hindi-palaasa.html' title='Ako&apos;y Pag-asa, Hindi Palaasa.'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3977161574044834323</id><published>2009-11-09T19:06:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T19:19:00.165+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's to say this isn't an illusion?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Rod against metal, and There was Light, shattered into a thousand pieces. Violet, blue, then orange and yellow raining down upon the earth. It's the night lights. Sun in an artificial globe of neon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;They're there, leaning down atop a pole, speeding down the highway, wonderful stolen goods. You can make a game of it. Find the tilt of your head that makes the rays reach out farthest, then squint and they're reaching out to infinity.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The view's best after a shower, then the ground is a wet mirror, and the lights shine from above and below, and I just want to sink, sink deep into the pavement, and fade away, into nothingness, into solidness, into the blurred world seen past the mirror. Then maybe it won't hurt so much.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3977161574044834323?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3977161574044834323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3977161574044834323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3977161574044834323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3977161574044834323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/11/whos-to-say-this-isnt-illusion.html' title='Who&apos;s to say this isn&apos;t an illusion?'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6216008092829099180</id><published>2009-11-08T21:28:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T21:53:28.642+08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Beginnings</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Okay. Napakaredundant nung title. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero bagay diba? Because I now have... tsantsararan! A new layout! Para naman kasing hindi halata noh? Haha. Bayaan mo na ako. Kasi... tsantsararan! Birthday ko ngayon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O ayan. Siguro naman hindi niyo alam yan. Pero ok lang sakin kung hindi, kasi hindi ko rin naman alam ang mga birthday niyo. :)) Gaya nga ng sabi ko dati, it doesn't matter when you came into this world. What matters is that you're here now. Hmm... Siguro ka-level ko sina Confucius kung nabuhay ako sa nakaraan. Pareho kaming pilosopo at magaling magpalusot. Mwahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So onting explanation lang sa bago kong layout. Dalawang images ang ginamit ko dito. Yung couple saka yung balloons, tapos ako na gumawa nung stripes, text, at iba pang katsorvahan. Dapat talaga kinecredit ko sila e. Teka nga... Hanapin ko ung gumawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*beep*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*beep*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~Chestnuts roasting... on an open fire. And I smell Silver Bells, because Santa Claus is coming... to town~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O ayan. Nahanap ko na. Salamat kay &lt;a href="http://wonderfulstyle.deviantart.com"&gt;wonderfulstyle&lt;/a&gt; at kay &lt;a href="http://owlink.deviantart.com"&gt;owlink&lt;/a&gt; para sa images. Sorry at hindi ako nagpaalam sa inyo. Nakakatamad kasi gumawa ng account sa deviantart e. Alam ko rin namang hindi ko siya gagalawin except sa pagcomment, kaya sayang lang ang gagawin kong username, baka magamit pa ng iba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ay, at speaking of username, pinagawa kami ng poem sa English nung isang araw. Sinabihan kami to &lt;b&gt;"Write a poem about a poem"&lt;/b&gt;. Magpasa raw ng tatlong kopya, tapos gumamit ng alias. Ipapabasa raw sa iba pang hawak na section ng teacher namin. (ayokong isulat yung pangalan. baka sumabog monitor ko. &gt;:) ) Nung una nagpanic ako, pero at the last minute may bigla akong naisip, and I am proud to say that I am proud of what I wrote (what?!).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So mga peoples, eto ang challenge ko sa inyo ngayon: hanapin niyo kung asan yung poem ko. Ang makahanap... bibigyan ko ng stufftoy na kamukha ni Sir Kulong. O diba?! Ganda nung prize diba?! Sigurado pang malambot yun. :)) So shipmates, waterlog onto my site at sabihin niyo sa chatbox kung ano ang tingin niyong alias ko. &lt;i&gt;BIR Permit no. 2256&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6216008092829099180?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6216008092829099180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6216008092829099180' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6216008092829099180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6216008092829099180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-beginnings.html' title='New Beginnings'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4411954227054296569</id><published>2009-11-02T19:41:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T19:45:03.564+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Siesta</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi maayos pakiramdam ko ngayon. Siguro may kinalaman yung non-stop na pag-aaral ko para sa SAT II sa pagkadown ko ngayon. Paminsan napapaisip rin ako e: 'Bat pa nga ba ako nagpapahirap sa sarili ko? Paminsan hindi ko na rin alam ang sagot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ito ang naging desisyon ko. Sa dulo, Diyos lang rin naman magsasabi kung san ako matutuloy e. Kaya mag-aaral ako, para kung makapasa man ako o hindi, hindi dahil sa hindi ko sinubukan, ngunit talagang ayaw lang Niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magtitiwala na lang ako sa Kanya. Okay. Balik na sa pag-aaral. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4411954227054296569?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4411954227054296569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4411954227054296569' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4411954227054296569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4411954227054296569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/11/siesta.html' title='Siesta'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6587597864956782536</id><published>2009-10-29T23:03:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-29T23:15:45.647+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nagdadahilan</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Hmm... But wait. Now that I think about it, there are no ways. You just happened to be you, and I just happened to be me, and that's all there is to it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit mahal kita? Tumigil na ako sa pagtatanong nun. Wala siyang patutunguhan. Mahal ba talaga kita? Tumigil na rin ako sa pagtatanong nun, dahil hindi ko alam ang kasagutan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lalayo ako, at makakalimutan na rin kita. Idedelete kita sa contacts ko sa Y!M at cellphone, para hindi na kita maalala. Pero bakit naman kasi napakacommon ng name mo? Grr. Nangangako ako ngayong hindi na ako kailanman iibig sa isang lalaking may common na pangalan. Mamahalin ko na lang ung mga lalaking may pangalan na Ebrus o sinumang may ganun kaweird na name, para hindi ko siya kailangang alalahanin tuwing dadaan ako ng North Ave o kaya magbubukas ng history book.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At lilipad ako, lalayo na sa lugar na ito, na mahal ko ngunit hindi ko na kayang tiisin dahil sa pamilya ko na mahal ko ngunit hindi ko na rin kayang tiisin. Magbabago ako, magiging matatag, may alam sa buhay, may patutunguhan, maganda, mabait. Kung hihigitan ko ba siya mamahalin mo ako? Pero oo nga pala. Wala nang hihigit pa sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dati talaga sinabi kong hindi na ako magsusulat tungkol sa pag-ibig sa blog na 'to, kasi pagtapos nun laging andaming tanong. Pero dibale, wala akong pakialam ngayon. Ganun naman diba? Depende lang sa mood.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nandito parin ako pero namimiss na kita. Kaya dapat na talaga akong lumayo, lumipad papalayo, mabuhay sa malayo, kung saan hindi mo ako mapupuntahan, at hindi na rin kita mapupuntahan. Ibabaon kita sa limot, sa ilalim ng liwanag ng Times Square sa gabi at itatago sa likod ng musika ng Boston Symphony Orchestra. Paalam, lalaking hindi nagmahal sa akin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6587597864956782536?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6587597864956782536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6587597864956782536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6587597864956782536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6587597864956782536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/nagdadahilan.html' title='Nagdadahilan'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8214699201416049731</id><published>2009-10-20T20:14:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T20:21:22.468+08:00</updated><title type='text'>What?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;OMG. Akala ko talaga ngayon ung anniversary ng blog ko. :)) Mwahaha. Antanga ko talaga. October 12 pa pala.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O well. When the confetti is gone and the candles are blown, and you're left all alone, I'll still be here beside you, saying, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" I'm not late. I'm sensitive. Oolalang pagdadahilan~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I was planning on doing something special for my blog's birthday. Maybe a new layout? :3 Kaso nga lang hindi talaga kinaya e. :)) Hanggang ngayon binabaha parin ako ng mga kung anu-anong pahabol na projects. I just took the time off to write this because, really, I needed the break.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto ko sanang magkwento tungkol sa karumal-dumal na pamilya ko, kaso nga lang masyado pa ngang maraming kelangang gawin. Maybe next time? Nah. Hindi na siguro. Suffice to say na kung makapasa nga ako sa isang college abroad, siguradong aalis na ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Happy Anniversary babeh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8214699201416049731?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8214699201416049731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8214699201416049731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8214699201416049731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8214699201416049731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/what.html' title='What?!'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2557947324766957108</id><published>2009-10-17T08:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T08:36:10.190+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking to the Future</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width=350 align=center border=0 cellspacing=0 cellpadding=2&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align=center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font face="Georgia, Times New Roman, Times, serif" style='color:black; font-size: 14pt;'&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your City is Buenos Aires&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogthingsimages.com/whatsyourcityquiz/buenos-aires.jpg" height="100" width="100"&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;font color="#ffffff"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are cultured, sophisticated, and quite old fashioned. You believe traditions are important, but you are still quite vibrant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People don't know you well at all, and if they do, they totally misunderstand what you are all about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are more interesting and more intelligent than anyone gives you credit for. You are a bit of a hidden treasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are creative, ambitious, beautiful, and fun. You may have a rough past, but you are always getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com/whatsyourcityquiz/"&gt;What's Your City?&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogthings.com"&gt;Blogthings: Our Quizzes Weren't Written By Bored 12 Year Olds&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang hirap talagang pumili. To leave or not to leave? That is the question. It's a question that I cannot answer right now. I want to go, and yet I don't. You know the feeling right, this wanting two things from both ends of the spectrum. Maybe it's too soon to think about it, maybe it's not.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tsk.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2557947324766957108?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2557947324766957108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2557947324766957108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2557947324766957108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2557947324766957108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/looking-to-future.html' title='Looking to the Future'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7738900003658627570</id><published>2009-10-08T21:18:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T19:42:01.569+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mga Nagbabalatkayong Anghel</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isang beses palang nangyayari ito, sabi ng kanyang ina habang sila'y nakaupo sa mga katre sa ikalawang palapag. Naiakyat pa nila ang ilang pagkain at ang lalagyan ng gamot sa taas, ngunit nilamon na ng tubig baha ang iba pa. Walang kuryente, walang init. Ulan, hangin, baha, ang hagupit ng kalikasan na ngayo'y paakyat na ng paakyat sa kanilang bahay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi mo na siguro naaalala iyon, dahil bata ka pa, patuloy ng ina. Hindi, baby ka pa nun. Siguro'y mga isang taon ka pa lang. Ang tagal na rin no?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sinilip niya ang hagdanan. Tatlo pang apakan at mababasa na rin ang ikalawang palapag. Ang pangit ng kulay ng tubig, kung matatawag mo pang tubig yun. Mas nararapat ata ang tawagin itong likidong putik na hinalo sa basura at tae. Dumungaw siya sa labas at pinanood ang mga gamit nila na tangayin palabas ng agos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam kung ano ang mas malalang bagyo, ito o iyon. Napatawa ang kanyang ina. Para naman kasing importante iyon. Pareho lang naman silang nakakamatay at nakakapanira.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ilang beses na niyang narinig ang kwentong ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oo, bata ka pa nun, hindi mo maaalala, kaya ikekwento ko na lang sayo. Parang ganito rin, pinasok na ng tubig ang bahay natin. Isang palapag pa lamang ito noon, kaya't sinubukan nating lumipat sa kapitbahay. Nasa gitna na tayo ng kalsada nang biglang lumakas ang hangin at bigla ka na lamang tinangay ng agos mula sa mga kamay ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bata pa nga siya noon, pero naaalala pa niya ang lahat. Paminsan, sa kailaliman ng gabi, maaalala pa niya ang tubig, tubig tulad nito na sa totoo'y likidong putik na binabad sa basura't tae na tinatangay siya, pumapalibot sa kanya, hinahatak siya pailalim upang burahin. Hanggang ngayo'y ayaw pa rin niyang subukang lumangoy, kahit pa sa mga swimming pool na kay tahimik, dahil alam niyang inaabangan parin siya ng along humigop sa kanya dati.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kamuntikan na rin akong tangayin, pero nakakapit ang tatay mo sa tangkay ng isang puno. Inis na inis ako sa tatay mo nun. Bitiwan mo ako! sigaw ako ng sigaw sa kanya. Susugurin ko ang bagyo upang sagipin ka, kahit pa hindi ako magaling lumangoy, pero pinigilan ako ng tatay mo. Hinatak niya ako papaloob ng bahay ng kapitbahay, kung saan napaluhod na lang ako, humahagulgol, at bumubulong siya sa tenga ko, nagsasabing, Tama na. Wala na tayong magagawa. Wala na siya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit naririto pa siya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oo, narito ka pa. Salamat sa Diyos at narito ka pa. Salamat dun sa binatang nagligtas sayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naaalala pa niya ang binatang iyon. Naaalala pa niya ang mga kamay na bigla na lamang pumalibot sa kanya, nagnakaw sa kanya mula sa kamatayan. Naaalala pa niya ang init ng bisig na yumayakap sa kanya. Ang tibok ng pusong nakatapat sa kanyang tenga habang hinahango ng binata ang baha, lumalangoy pabalik sa kanyang inang naghahagupis.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isa siyang anghel. Kumapit siya sa gate gamit ang isang kamay, at iniabot ka sa akin gamit ang isa pa. Pasalamat kami na pasalamat sa kanya, pero ngumiti lang siya, na para bang wala lang ang ginawa niya, hindi karapat-dapat na pasalamatan, at lumangoy na siya upang magligtas pa ng iba. Isa siyang anghel, sinasabi ko sayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Anghel. Yun ang pinangalan niya sa binata. Sana'y nakita niya ang mukha nito. Sana'y nakuha niya ang kanyang tunay na pangalan niya, para mapuntahan niya ngayong kaya na niyang magpasalamat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Napatili ang kanyang ina.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumingin siya sa sahig. Basa na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagyakapan silang mag-ina, nanonood sa unti-unting pagtaas ng lebel ng tubig. Isa, dalawa, tatlong talampakan. Tinitigan nila ang tubig hanggang sa ito'y kasinlebel na ng kama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Umakyot na tayo sa bubong, sabi ng kanyang ina. Mas malinis ang ulan sa tubig ulan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Binuksan niya ang bintana, at nauna na siyang lumabas. Ipinatong niya ang mga gamot, pagkain, kumot, at unan sa bubong at bumalik sa bintana upang alalayan ang ina.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Natatakot ako, bulong nito sa kanya. Hindi natin alam kung nasaan ang tatay mo ngayon, at inabot na tayo ng tubig sa ikalawang palapag. Naging bata muli ang kanyang nanay, isang batang nararapat lamang pagsinungalingan upang tumahan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ok lang yan, 'nay. Malapit na 'tong matapos, at baka may dumating pa para magligtas sa atin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Natawa ang inay. Tulad ng Anghel mo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tulad ng Anghel ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa wakas ay nakaakyat na ang kanyang ina sa tuktok. Susunod na sana siya nang biglang dumulas ang paa sa basang bubong. Naghalo ang mga kulay sa paligid kasabay ang sigaw ng kanyang ina habang siya'y tumilapon pailalim sa baha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hinahatak nanaman siya. Pailalim. Sa kailaliman upang mawala at makalimutan. Ito ang agos ng isa't kalahating dekadang nakaraan. At ang mga kamay na nagligtas sa kanya dati na ngayo'y hinihila na rin siya pababa. At ang kanyang huling imahe ng mundo, isang kalansay na nakangiti, na para bang wala lang ang ginawa niya, hindi karapat-dapat pasalamatan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7738900003658627570?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7738900003658627570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7738900003658627570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7738900003658627570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7738900003658627570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/mga-nagbabalatkayong-anghel.html' title='Mga Nagbabalatkayong Anghel'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4537535087871594935</id><published>2009-10-07T21:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T21:50:58.431+08:00</updated><title type='text'>G. Pasta</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang dadaya talaga ng mga matatanda. Ginagamit nila ang nalalapit nang taling ng kanilang mga buhay upang masunod ang kagustuhan nila. Pwede bang ano, bago ako mamatay? Hay. Bwisit talaga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit? Tayo rin namang mga bata a, kahit anong oras, pwedeng kunin na lang basta-basta ng Diyos. Pero hindiiiii. May uban sila sa buhok, kaya dapat silang respetuhin. E may uban na rin kaya ako, kaya respetuhin mo rin mga gusto ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4537535087871594935?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4537535087871594935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4537535087871594935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4537535087871594935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4537535087871594935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/g-pasta.html' title='G. Pasta'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8210184351236351850</id><published>2009-10-05T21:58:00.001+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T22:00:39.048+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qMZx5tJLplw/Ssn76QyaiNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQBDBib9Gb8/s1600-h/smacktalk.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 316px; height: 212px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qMZx5tJLplw/Ssn76QyaiNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQBDBib9Gb8/s320/smacktalk.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389115407482915026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... You spend the majority of your time in an 8x10 cell.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You spend most of your time in a 6x8 cubicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... You get three meals a day.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You only get a break for 1 meal and you have to pay for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... You get time off for good behavior.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You get rewarded for good behavior with more work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... A guard locks and unlocks all the doors for you.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You must carry around a security card and unlock and open all the doors yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... You can watch TV and play games.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You get fired for watching TV and playing games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... You get your own toilet.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You have to share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... They allow your family and friends to visit.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You cannot even speak to your family and friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN PRISON... All expenses are paid by tax payers with no work required.&lt;br /&gt;AT WORK... You get to pay all the expenses to go to work and then they deduct taxes from your salary to pay for prisoners.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8210184351236351850?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8210184351236351850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8210184351236351850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8210184351236351850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8210184351236351850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/internet-heaven.html' title='Internet Heaven'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qMZx5tJLplw/Ssn76QyaiNI/AAAAAAAAAAM/hQBDBib9Gb8/s72-c/smacktalk.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3771806440545406303</id><published>2009-10-01T21:07:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T21:41:39.224+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Compare Yourself to Others</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang hirap ng buhay ko ngayon. Nung sinulat ko ba yun, nagreklamo na ba ako? Siguro. May karapatan kaya ako magreklamo? Siguro wala. Kayo na bahala. Ang alam ko lang ay mahirap ang buhay ko ngayon at kung gusto ko magreklamo wala ka nang magagawa dun dahil blog ko to at hindi blog mo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kung mababalik ko lang ang nakaraan... Pero sandali. Aling nakaraan? Para namang naging masaya na talaga ako dati. Mas masaya pa nga ako ngayon kaysa dati, at wala akong balak na baguhin yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero paminsan iniisip ko rin kung maaari kayang naging masaya na nga talaga ako dati, at hindi ko lang maalala, o kaya'y sinadya ko lang kalimutan na naging masaya na talaga ako dati. Posible bang maging ganito kalungkot kung hindi ko hinahanap-hanap ang isang kaligayahang nakalipas na? Hindi mo hahanapin ang isang bagay na wala kang kinalaman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pumunta kaming America dati, nung sobrang bata pa namin, nung bagong panganak pa lang si Maria. Yung Kuya ko, andami niyang naaalala tungkol dun. Ito, naaalala mo ba 'to? Yung playground na kahoy, tapos nung pumunta tayong zoo. Nakakita na tayo ng snow dati, alala mo pa ba? Gumawa pa nga tayo ng Snowman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit hindi ko sila maalala? Si Maria ok lang na hindi, kasi nga baby pa talaga siya noon. Pero ako. Bakit wala akong maalala?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kasi sadyang ulyanin ka lang Ysabel. Alam kong ulyanin ako. Ako ang huling makakaalam na birthday mo na. Pero pagkaulyanin ba yun? Sa totoo lang, wala lang kasi talaga akong pakialam kung kelan ang birthday ng mga tao. Hindi naman importante talaga yun e, para sa akin. Hindi ko na kelangan malaman kung kelan ka nakarating sa mundong ito, ang importante'y narito ka na. Lame excuse, huh? A basta ganun. Mas importante ka kaysa sa birthday mo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;E pero pano naman yung ibang bagay? Hindi lang naman mga birthday nakakalimutan mo e. Hmmm. Ganito lang yun. Kung hindi importante, hindi ko maaalala. O kaya kung may iba akong iniisip, hindi ko maaalala. At kung naging napakasaya o kaya'y napakalungkot ko, maaalala ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oh wow. So hindi pala pwede ang theory ko. Haha. Sino bang niloloko ko? Hindi pa ako naging masaya talaga, at alam ko ito dahil sa pangako ng lahat ng mga librong binabasa ko, na hindi ko pa nararating ang heaven's high ng buhay ko. Ewan ko kung saan, ewan ko kung kailan, alam ko lang na merong ganun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mararating ko rin yun. Matitikman ko rin yun. Alam kong mas probable sa hindi na mangyari ito sa kalagitnaan ng buhay ko, at pagtapos nito'y wala na, lilibot na lamang ako sa mundo na tila isang multong dapat ay patay na ngunit buhay parin dahil sa hindi malamang rason. Ah. Kung ganun mas malala pa ako sa multo, dahil may gusto pang marating ang multo. Pagkatapos ng climax ng buhay ko, hindi ko alam kung gugustuhin ko pang mabuhay. Hindi natin malalaman, at kung pwede man, ayaw ko paring malaman. Pano magiging masaya yun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ahaha. At nagblog lang ako para may magawa habang nagloload yung Kare Kano. Andami ko pala talagang dinaramdam.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3771806440545406303?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3771806440545406303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3771806440545406303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3771806440545406303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3771806440545406303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/10/dont-compare-yourself-to-others.html' title='Don&apos;t Compare Yourself to Others'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3343093003268104525</id><published>2009-09-28T21:34:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-09-28T22:06:10.821+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ondoy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At nagkulay tae ang Pilipinas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kanina pa nakatutok ang mga TV sa bahay sa news na buong araw nang pinapakita. Iba't-ibang mukha ng trahedya, na lalo pang nagmukhang malungkot dahil sa pag-asang nakahalo sa mga mata ng mga ito para sa mga nawawalang kakilala, gayong alam mong mas malaki ang probabilidad na baka hindi na sila magkakita pa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At gusto kong magsorry sa kanilang lahat, kasi hindi ako makatulong, at hindi dahil sa hindi ko kayang tumulong. Hindi ko alam kung pano, pero alam kong kaya ko. At hindi ko rin alam kung bakit, pero hindi ako tumutulong.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ako naapektuhan ng bagyong Ondoy. Habang andaming natatabunang mga bahay at nalulunod na mga tao, nandito lang ako sa bahay, nakahiga, ineenjoy ang lamig pagkatapos ng malasummer na init.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ako magsisinungaling at sasabihing naaapektuhan talaga ako ngayon, habang nanonood sa kanilang lahat na umasa sa wala. Dahil wala akong kilala sa kanila, at ang naramdaman ko lang sa bagyong iyon ay ang ulan na tila dumilig sa aking mukha habang ako'y nakatingin sa labas ng bintana. Inambon lang ako kung saan kay raming nalunod.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ako nagdarasal, dahil kung ikukumpara naman sa dasal kong nagpupumilit lamang ay marami diyang mas kailangan ng atensyon ng Diyos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala akong magawa. Wala kundi magblog dito na parang tao, dahil wala akong magawa, kahit wala itong matutulungan, kahit wala itong saysay. Gusto kong tumulong, pero natatakot akong makita ang lahat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At alam niyo ba? Manonood kami ng sine bukas.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3343093003268104525?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3343093003268104525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3343093003268104525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3343093003268104525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3343093003268104525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/09/ondoy.html' title='Ondoy'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1077488619513669736</id><published>2009-08-22T22:01:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T23:44:32.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang Langit ay Nasa Tao</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bakit ba pati ako nadamay dito?" tanong niya sa kasama niyang nagiiskoba ng mga lalagyan ng agua sa labas ng simbahan. Biyernes, pero nasa simbahan sila.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Pwede namang hindi ka pumayag e," sabi ng kanyang kasama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"As if naman."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Namatay kagabi si Aling Berta. Gusto ng naiwan niyang pamilya na sa simbahan daw ganapin ang lamay. Pinatawag kanina ni Father ang mga sakristan para mag-ayos ng simbahan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bakit ka ba kasi nagsakristan?" tanong nanaman niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagkibit-balikat ang kausap niya. "Wala lang. Gusto ko lang kasi malayo dun sa choir nating tenor."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Tenor? E diba may mga babae dun?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Tenor, as in Tenor-ture."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ang corny mo talaga."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Wala ka lang sense of humor."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nahila nanaman siya sa problema ng iba. Kasama kasi niya 'tong baduy na ito nang magtawag ang kura, kaya tinanong na rin siya kung may gagawin pa ba siya, at kung wala, kung ayos lang sa kanya, ay maari bang tumulong na rin siya sa simbahan? Napahigpit siya ng pagtali sa isa sa mga itim na pising pinapatali sa kanya sa mga poste ng simbahan. Sa lahat ng ayaw niya, kasama na dun ang pakiusap ng mga matatanda na wala ka namang mapagpipilian kundi sundin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lumipas ang mga minuto. Nakakompleto na siya ng isang tabi ng simbahan. Lumipat siya sa kabila kung san halos nawala ang tunog ng rumaragasang tubig mula sa gripo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Patay na pala si Aling Berta. Kanina niya lang nalaman. Nakatira ang matanda sa kaharap nilang bahay, pero bihira pa rin silang magkita. Nang sabihin ngang namatay na si Aling Berta, kinailangan pa niyang magtanong ng, "Sino 'yon?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumanaw siya sa himpapawid. Parami na rin nang parami ang mga lamay na idinaraos sa simbahan nila. Luma na kasi ang subdivision nila, kaya karamihan ng mga nakatira dito ay puro matatanda. Isa raw silang Aging Population, ika nga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sino na kaya ang susunod?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naririnig niyang mag-ensayo ang Tenor choir sa loob ng simbahan. Tama nga. Karapat-dapat nga silang tawaging Tenor choir. Dati kasali ang lola niya dito e, pero ngayon kasali na lang siya sa 911 choir, yung pinapatawag kapag wala nang ibang matawag. Mas malala pa yun sa pagiging Tenor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nung bata siya, gustong-gusto niyang tinatalian ang kanyang buhok ng kanyang lola bago sila pumasok sa school. Malamig kasi ang mga kamay nito, kaya masarap pakiramdaman sa may anit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tinatalian siya ng buhok habang kumakain siya ng almusal. Tiyak na nakabukas ang stereo ng kanyang lolo sa panahon ng agahan. Sinubukan niya, ngunit nabigo siyang bilangin kung ilang beses na ba niyang narinig nang paulit-ulit ang pare-parehong mga kanta, na kinanta ng mga singers na, sa totoo lang, ay wala siyang pakialam kung anuman ang nangyari sa kanila, ngunit pinakikinggan parin niya ang kanilang mga istorya tuwing ikekwento ang mga ito ng kanyang lolo dahil naaawa siya rito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sinimulan nang ayusin ng mga sakristan ang mga bulaklak sa sulok ng paglalamayan. Magiging malungkot na lugar itong lugar ng pagpupuri mamaya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagpatuloy siya sa pagtatali ng mga itim na pisi. Malapit na siyang matapos. Hindi niya maintindihan kung bakit, pero sa bawat isang pisi'y may naaalala siya mula sa kanyang nakaraan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi naging masaya ang kanyang buhay. Maraming nagsasabi na maswerte siya, pero hindi siya naniniwala sa mga ito. Alam niyang mas maraming malalang bagay na maaaring nangyari sa kanya, pero ano ngayon? Dapat ba matuwa siya dahil mas naghihirap ang iba kaysa sa kanya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang alam niya lang ay mahirap ang buhay na ito. Alam niya rin kung bakit, gaano man niya ito ikinakahiya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tapos na siya. Andami pala talagang poste ng simbahan nila, pero sa wakas, tapos na siya. Naglakad siya pabalik sa gripo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tapos na rin mag-iskoba ang kanyang kasama kanina. Sinimulan na niyang punuin ng agua ang mga balde.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Umupo siya malapit dito at tumanaw sa malayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"O, ano nanamang problema mo?" tanong ng sakristan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinanood niya ang mga itim na pising itinali niya na sumayaw sa hangin. Kung iisipin, mukha silang hangin na nagkaroon lamang ng hugis. "Andaming namatay ngayong taon no?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Oo nga."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang sarap dito. Ang presko. Ang lamig. "Tingin mo, sino susunod?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagkibit-balikat muli ang sakristan. "Malay ko. Nasa Diyos naman yun e. Ipagdasal mo na lang na hindi kasama sa mga pamilya natin."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ganun ba."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sinawsaw niya ang kanyang daliri sa isa sa mga baldeng may agua na, at pinampunas niya ito sa kanyang noo. Sinawsaw niya muli ang kanyang daliri sa agua, at ginamit naman itong pangkrus.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naghintay siya, pero hindi pa rin mawala ang duming nararamdaman niyang nakakapit sa kanyang kaluluwa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1077488619513669736?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1077488619513669736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1077488619513669736' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1077488619513669736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1077488619513669736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/ang-langit-ay-nasa-tao.html' title='Ang Langit ay Nasa Tao'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3204817724961230605</id><published>2009-08-12T17:56:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T18:11:13.466+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Putoshop</title><content type='html'>Eto, ginawa ko dahil napikon ako, at hindi ako maka-concentrate sa pag-aaral. Haha. Yan. Okay na uli ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i27.tinypic.com/2j49edz.gif" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3204817724961230605?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3204817724961230605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3204817724961230605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3204817724961230605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3204817724961230605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/putoshop.html' title='Putoshop'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i27.tinypic.com/2j49edz_th.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-998983778526412543</id><published>2009-08-12T15:44:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T16:03:41.277+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hindi Sinasadya</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May karapatan ba akong mainis? Wala siguro. Pero ano ngayon? Naiinis parin ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mga kaibigan ko sila. Totoo, hindi ko sinabing ayaw kong nariring ang tungkol sa bagay na iyon, pero hindi pa ba nila napapansin? Ewan ko ba. Kasing manhid ba sila ng mga crocodile? Hindi naman, diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi lang siguro kasi nila maintindihan. Magkakaiba kami ng sitwasyon sa buhay. Pero ano ngayon? Sila naman, iniintindi ko e. Gago, nabibiwisit lang talaga ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nandyan ako pag kailangan nila ako. Pag gusto nilang umiyak, sige lang, nandun lang ako sa tabi nila. Pinapatawa ko pa sila para lang gumaan mga loob nila. Sabi nila hindi raw humihingi ng kapalit ang isang tunay na kaibigan, pero sorry, tao lang rin ako. Kailangan ko lang naman ng konting sensitivity mula sa inyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Siguro hindi niyo maintindihan kung ano pinagsasasabi ko dito ano? Puwes problema niyo na yun. Ang payo ko sa inyo, gamitin niyo mga kokote niyo at alalahanin niyo yung sinabi niyo kanina, lalo na ikaw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oo, galit ako, maliban na lang dun sa isa, kasi wala siya nun, at alam kong kung nandun siya, hindi niya gagawin ang mga ginawa niyo. Magdusa kayo sa pagtataka kung kayo nga ang mga tinutukoy ko dito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-998983778526412543?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/998983778526412543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=998983778526412543' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/998983778526412543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/998983778526412543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/hindi-sinasadya.html' title='Hindi Sinasadya'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3872791596049519146</id><published>2009-08-10T20:04:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T20:15:10.890+08:00</updated><title type='text'>*Kaching!*</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;NAKITA KO SI SIR ALARCON KANINA!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wah....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Papasok kami ni Maria ng SM nun, kasi dun kami susunduin ni Mommy. Pagtingin ko biglang, BOOM! SI SIR ALARCON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wow andaming ! nun a. Ahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kasama niya sina Mam Guggie, tapos nakasuot ng blue. Natawa siya nung nakita niya ako, kasi nakaluho ata mga mata ko nun. What the hell ba naman kasi. Akala ko nasa Singapore na siya. Bigla na lang sumipot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So ayun. Lapit ako onti. Tanong siya, "O, musta na?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sabi ko, "Sir naman e! 'Bat kayo umalis?! Kayo dapat magsusulat sa recommendation letter ko e!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tapos ayun, ngiti na lang siya. Wahhhh. Ang cute cute talaga ni sir pag ngumingiti. :)) Namiss ko talaga yun. Yung ngiti niyang babagay sa sound effect na Kaching!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;For some reason, hindi ko napansin kung may braces pa rin siya o wala. Masyado akong nawindang. Ahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sana dumating siya sa school bukas. Malabong magturo siya uli, pero sigurado naman sigurong bibisita uli siya. A basta. Ang saya ng araw ko kanina. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3872791596049519146?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3872791596049519146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3872791596049519146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3872791596049519146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3872791596049519146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/kaching.html' title='*Kaching!*'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2986585303741076314</id><published>2009-08-07T21:38:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T21:57:12.226+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ate o. Bilhin niyo na. Sige na. Pangkain lang.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Mommy, mommy, tingnan mo yung batang yun o. Bigyan natin siyang pera, sige na. Mukhang gutom na gutom na siya e."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Huwag. Huwag mo bibigyan yan. Kung bibigyan mo, edi pano pa sila matututo? Buong buhay na lang nila, aasa sila sa limos."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nanahimik na lang ako. Ano ngayon kung hindi sila matuto? Kung hindi natin sila bibigyan, mayroon pa kaya silang bukas na madadatnan?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sawang-sawa na talaga akong may nakikitang mga naglilimos sa kalye. Gusto ko silang akapin at gusto kong alisin ang mga nakakaawang ekspresyon sa kanilang mga mukha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May matanda na hindi na makakita. Mayroon siyang patpat na ipinangpapalo niya sa semento. Nakataas ang kanyang palad na puno ng alikabok at pigsa. Wala siyang kasama. Kasing puti ng mga ulap ang kanyang mga matang nakatitig sa kadiliman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumapat siya sa bintana ng aming kotse.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala akong pera. Wala sa aking mga kasama ang magbibigay ng pera para sa matandang 'to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinanood ko siya. Dumapo ang isang langaw sa kanyang mga labi, ngunit hindi niya pinansin. Manhid na siya. Manhid na siya sa mga langaw at mga titig ng mga tao na puno ng awa, at ang palad na laging nakataas na wala namang nakukuha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi pa ako manhid, at ayokong mamanhid. Huwag niyo po ako hayang mamanhid, kailanman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2986585303741076314?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2986585303741076314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2986585303741076314' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2986585303741076314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2986585303741076314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/ate-o-bilhin-niyo-na-pakiusap-lang.html' title='Ate o. Bilhin niyo na. Sige na. Pangkain lang.'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1860212088573970339</id><published>2009-08-02T20:21:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T21:57:13.199+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We came. We suffered. We survived. We conquered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TAPOS NA ANG UPCAT!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha. Okay. Actually wala pa akong nararamdamang pagbabago. Parang, Hrmmm. Okay. The day I've been preparing for for years is now over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ganun talaga e. 'Pag narating mo na, parang... wala lang. Napaka-anti climatic talaga ng katuparan ng mga pangarap. Tulad nung *cough*. Antagal ko nang pinagdadasal, tapos nung nangyari na nga... ano ngayon? Nagiging surreal yung experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heto ako ngayon, nanonood ng Budol-Budol exclusive. Mwahaha. Random ba? Well anyway, nakakatuwa yung program. Hay....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1860212088573970339?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1860212088573970339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1860212088573970339' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1860212088573970339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1860212088573970339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/08/we-came.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7645667797058760634</id><published>2009-07-31T22:02:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T22:16:59.504+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cue Scary Drumroll</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dundundun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Heto na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;UPCAT na nga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dear batchmates, huwag kayong mag-alala. Kakayanin natin 'tong UPCAT. Pinaghirapan nating paghandaan ito, kaya hindi tayo mabibigo! Then again, kung hindi kayo nag-aral, hindi kayo ang kinakausap ko dito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bahala na talaga ang Diyos. Kung makapasa, edi SALAMAT PO!!! SALAMAT NG MARAMI!!! Pero kung hindi... well.... ako kasi, UPCAT or nothing e. (Kaya lang ako kukuha ng ACET kasi gusto ng parents ko, pero kung maayos naman pagtake ko ng UPCAT, ibabagsak ko na yung ACET. haha. buwisit kasi e. kahit ba naman app. form, kelangan pang bayaran. di rin naman gahaman.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ayun nga. UPCAT or nothing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Basta! Ipagdasal niyo lang na hindi kayo mamamindblock, o kaya biglang may mangyari at hindi na kayo nakakuha ng UPCAT. Ayon nga kay Duane, yun yung pinakamasaklap, kasi ni hindi mo man lang nasubukan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Take this true story my father told us about. May isa raw siyang pasiyente, biglang nagka-appendicitis sa araw ng UPCAT. Tinakbo siya sa ospital. Nakakalungkot talaga, kasi hindi na nga siya nakapag-take ng UPCAT, pagkadating pa niya sa ospital, nalaman niyang wala pala siyang appendicitis. Stomach ache lang pala.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ouch, diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Well, isipin niyo na lang itong saying from Paulo Coelho's "The Alchemist".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"&lt;i&gt;What has happened once will never happen again. What has happened twice will happen again for a third time.&lt;/i&gt;"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hrmm. Pero medyo malabo yung saying. If what has happened once will never happen again, then how can something ever happen twice?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah, the nuances of literature.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Hulaan ko. Wala sa inyong nag-aral ng English ano? Haha. Ako rin. Hindi ko na inaral. Who uses those high-falutin' (apir Duane!) words anyway?! Kahit yung mga nabasa kong classics walang ganun. And believe me, I read very, very, very x50, DEEP classics. Like One Hundred Years of Solitude (although hindi gaano kalalim 'to. hehe), which is actually very nice. Hindi siya boring. Para siyang Like Water for Chocolate. Or should I say, parang One Hundred Years of Solitude yung Like Water for Chocolate. Basta. Pag nabasa niyo na, you'll see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Heto nanaman ako. Haha. Nagsayang nanaman ng oras sa pagbloblog. Well, alis na ako. Hindi pa ako tapos mag-aral ng Geom. No worries, kasi Sunday pa naman ako. Nyahaha. Sige. Night, guys :D.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7645667797058760634?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7645667797058760634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7645667797058760634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7645667797058760634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7645667797058760634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/07/cue-scary-drumroll.html' title='Cue Scary Drumroll'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3835327866194065686</id><published>2009-07-26T23:19:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T23:43:01.787+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Renaissance</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hello people! Namiss niyo ba ako? :)). Tagal ko ring nawala ah. August na next week. dundundun. All of you know what that means. UPCAT NA!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;For some reason hindi ako kinakabahan sa UPCAT. hehe. Excited na nga ako e. Ewan ko. Mayabang lang siguro talaga ako, pero hindi talaga ako kinakabahan sa UPCAT. Wala akong balak mag-aral, except for a few basic math operations. Hrmmm. Pero actually, halos buong high school life ko isa nang pagrereview para sa UPCAT, lalo na last year. O ngayon alam niyo na kung bakit napakasipag ko last year. :)). Oo. Para lang yun sa UPCAT. Meron na kasing nagsabi sakin na 3rd year grades ang may pinakamalaking weight sa pagrereview ng UP sa high school grades. Mga ulol, hindi ako masipag. :)). Marunong lang ako magtiyaga. (hrmmm... may diperensiya ba? :)) )&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And speaking of tiyaga, meron na akong bagong (or should I say binalikang?) pinagtutuunan ng pansin ngayon. Opo, ito ang dahilan kung bakit ngayon niyo lang ako muling naalinagan magpost dito. Ito ang.... janjanjanjan! Piano!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kasalanan itong lahat ng Nodame Cantabile. haha. Binuhayan uli ako ng loob. Isa kasi akong pianist na kaya na lamang magpatunog, ngunit hindi magpatugtog, ng piano. Nakalimutan ko na kasi kung pano damdamin ang musika. Grabe :)). Para parin akong nagpapiano ngayon habang nagtatype. See? May silbi rin naman ang paglalaro ng computer at typing games (excuses excuses~).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay... Ang ganda talaga ng classical music. Dati kasi nawalan na ako ng gana. Ano ba to, diba lumang musika lang ng mga patay na? E yun pala isa lang akong dakilang tanga. Ginawa kong background music, parang white noise, ang classical. Hindi ko siya pinakinggan ng buo. Hay... Salamat talaga, mga producers ng Nodame :D.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nyahaha. As you can see, masaya na uli ako. Buti rin naman. In time na in time para sa UPCAT (oo, kelangan ko yong ipaalala &gt;:) ). hrmm... UPCAT. Ano kaya mangyayari sa araw na yun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;August 2, 2009. Malcolm Hall. 6:30 a.m.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dinaanan na namin yung test center ko. Nakakatakot. Parang dinukot at sinalpak sa UP grounds mula sa Gothic Era. Pwedeng-pwede kang maglagay ng gargoyle at hindi siya maa-out-of-place. Tapos wala siyang aircon X_X. Pano na lang pag tanghali na?! Mapiprito na ako....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gets ko na kung bakit rin hindi ako nakasulat for the past few days (weeks!). Hindi naman sa hindi ko sinubukan! Meron akong dalawang unfinished and unpublished posts dito, pero yun nga. Unfinished.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang tanga kasi. :)). Nahiya ako sa sarili kong balat. Puro na lang kasi tungkol sakin yung mga pinagsusulat ko. E ANONG KLASENG SITE BA TO?! Blog diba?! =)) Kahanga-hanga talaga ang extent ng katangahan ko paminsan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sige, yun lang muna. Tutugtog na muna ng HP &gt;:).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ay! Tapos abangan niyo nga pala yung appearance ko sa tapat ng Batasan bukas. mwahahaha..... Gloria, magdasal ka para sa bagyo........ mwahahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3835327866194065686?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3835327866194065686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3835327866194065686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3835327866194065686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3835327866194065686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/07/renaissance.html' title='Renaissance'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-9048984759115130647</id><published>2009-07-07T22:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T22:28:58.362+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm scared. All the facts point to this one truth: The thing you wish for most never comes true. I'm so scared. I've lived all my life believing, and now I'm so scared that it would all have been in vain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to break away from the dream before the dream blows up in my face. It's sort of like breaking up before he breaks up with you, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know what I want, and what I want is so simple, it's nearly impossible. I don't ask for money. I ask for family. How can there be the latter without the former?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to sleep.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-9048984759115130647?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/9048984759115130647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=9048984759115130647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9048984759115130647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9048984759115130647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-scared.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8609741544273401055</id><published>2009-07-07T21:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T21:36:05.338+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't understand. I really don't understand. I don't know. I don't know. I really want to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dream or yours? A coin toss to decide. Heads, mine. Tails, yours. But what if both of us pray, me for heads, you for tails? They say if you wish enough, your dreams will come true. A dream is a wish your heart makes, remember that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know I don't know I can't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ability, simplicity. This is senseless mediocrity. To satisfy you would also be to satisfy me, to satisfy me would be to satisfy me alone. Take a needle and thread a camel. I don't know I don't know I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Haha. Insane. I'm going insane. I smile and then it's all okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've stopped caring a long time ago. When do I stop pretending that I've never cared, ever since long long ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need direction. Do I provide that direction? Waiting for the master plan. But maybe that's my place, to wait for ages, just wait, then wait, and wait. Choose a path or have a path chosen? I don't know I don't know I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want my childhood back. I want to go back to the snow, and the rabbit ice cream, and the wooden playground. I was happy there, for once. All gone. All gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I'll never know. Wait for the divine order or stray from the path? I don't know I don't know I don't know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8609741544273401055?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8609741544273401055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8609741544273401055' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8609741544273401055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8609741544273401055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-dont-understand.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6691756988643107564</id><published>2009-07-02T23:12:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T23:18:04.001+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Byebye~</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Nagbukas-bukas lang ako ng mga lumang files sa laptop ko, at nahanap ko 'to. Matagal na pala akong naguundergo ng deppression. haha.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The peaceful night seemed to mock me. The moon shined with a beautiful, angelic light, while leaves rustled in the trees with the cool breeze. Everything felt so alive. I took the scene in with detached interest, despite knowing that this would be the last.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ten minutes was all it took. But it seemed to have been a thousand. I watched the water pour down the fountain. Watched the clouds as they rolled by. Felt the grass between my fingers. Just felt the life reverberating throughout the world. I didn’t want it to end. I held it off until I knew that if I didn’t do it now, I would never be able to even think about it again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The gun was already loaded. It had always been, because if there was one thing my father hated, it was thieves. He said they ‘deserved one thing, and one thing only.’ Mommy didn’t like it, and, now that I think about it, neither did I. Guns meant death, the point of no return. Thoughts of the afterlife chill me to the bone. It was probably because of the whole aura of mystery surrounding the thought.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;But no matter, no matter. Everything was different now. What was once present no longer was, and what used to be absent was now screaming at me from all around. Guns weren’t death, but freedom. Freedom from the pain that ate up my heart in every waking moment.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;There was nothing left to suffer for. I was all alone. Would breaking apart from pain be so bad, when nothing, nothing, nothing more was worth it all? Would God truly be so cruel, as to throw me into the pits of hell simply because I took the easy way out?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;If it would ease your conscience, even just a bit, then you must know that there was nothing easy about this. I was only fourteen. Too young to even think about my own death. I was smart. I still had a future lying ahead of me. But it was a future without love, family, or passion. It was not something to live for.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;With a click, I released the revolver’s safety latch. I raised the gun to the side of my head. One shot, and it would all be over. One shot, and I would be free.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I breathed in the fresh air. The breeze was fanning strands of my hair onto my face. How annoyed I always was when that happened. But now, it was so comforting, a last farewell in the form of an everyday trifle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The time had come. I closed my eyes, and so ended all my pain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6691756988643107564?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6691756988643107564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6691756988643107564' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6691756988643107564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6691756988643107564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/07/byebye.html' title='Byebye~'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-3742016583804375796</id><published>2009-06-29T09:42:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-29T12:31:29.717+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Birds of Prey</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Okay, san niyo gusto kumain?" tanong ni Daddy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"PHO HOA!" sabi namin ni kuya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ayoko sa Pho Hoa!" sabi ni Maria.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Wala kaming pakialam!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ayoko sa Pho Hoa!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bat ayaw mo sa Pho Hoa?!" usisa ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"E ayaw ko e." sabi niya, sabay irap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"At anong klaseng rason yun?!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Basta ayaw ko!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Edi mag-order ka sa iba, tapos kakain kaming Pho Hoa."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Eeeeeeh."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"E pano kung dun tayo sa Sushi-ya kumain?" alok ni Mommy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"NO!!! Gusto namin Pho Hoa!!!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ayoko nga ng Pho Hoa!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Edi wag ka kumain!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bakit ba kasi gusto niyo kumain sa Pho Hoa?!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"E ang sarap-sarap kaya ng noodles!" sabi ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hindi kaya!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Nagsalita ang Chowking lover."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Pho Hoa nalang tayo, Maria." sabi ni Ma. "Sinigang naman hapunan sa bahay mamaya e."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Katahimikan, tapos, "Ok."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat talagi nirerecord ko 'tong mga usapan na 'to. Ito yung mga tipong ikekwento mo sa mga anak mo, yun bang, "Alam mo ba, yang Tita mo dati..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero baka patayin ako nung babaeng yun pag ganun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Fast-forward sa halos ubos na yung pagkain. Busog na busog na ako, na para bang puputok na yung butones ng pantalon ko sa sobrang busog. Pero si Kuya, si Daddy, saka si Mommy, hindiiii. All set pa silang lumamon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Si Maria, busog na rin katulad ko, pero meh tira pang pagkain. Andami kasing kinain na noodles. (tingnan niyo! pagtapos magreklamo, ilang noodles rin nakain niya! pssh.) So sabi niya, "Busog na ako. Sino pa may gusto?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bumukas yung bibig ni Mommy, pero mas nauna si Kuyang magsabi na "Ako!" Kaya siyempre, sa kanya inabot ni Maria yung pagkain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Priceless yung mukha ni Mommy nung panahon na yun. Aakalain mo ninakawan siya ni Kuya ng isang napakahalagang bagay. Ansama ng tingin niya. Dati nilagay ko na dito na baka may lahing Medusa si Mommy, kasi iba talaga yung tingin niya pag nainis. Nagmanifest nanaman yung recessive trait na yun dito. (pagpasensiyahan. Bio kami nung Saturday e. hehe.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mukhang napansin rin ni Kuya, kaya sabi niya, "Gusto mo pa, Mommy?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Siyempre gusto ni Mommy. Tinusok niya ng tinidor yung karne, tapos sabay silang naghiwa ni kuya sa parehong plato. Habang ginagawa nila yun, bigla nalang pumasok sa isipan ko ang imahe ng mga vultures sa disyerto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat talaga nagdadala ako ng video cam araw-araw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-3742016583804375796?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/3742016583804375796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=3742016583804375796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3742016583804375796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/3742016583804375796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/birds-of-prey.html' title='Birds of Prey'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2981319266245073901</id><published>2009-06-24T22:02:00.009+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-25T11:41:20.324+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dahil -(-x) = +x</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Dahil maayos na uli ang blog ko :D&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;HACHOO!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;O, grabe na talaga ang panahon ngayon. Pansampung beses na ata niyang bumahing ngayon araw na 'to, at kakatapos pa lang magtanghalian. Ansama ng tingin ng mga tao sa kanya. Akala siguro carrier na siya ng "it's one in one".&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;E bakit pa kayo pupunta ng mall kung takot naman pala kayo sa flu?!, gusto niyang isigaw sa kanilang mga pagmumukha. Kaso nga lang naaawa rin siya. Baka himatayin lang sila kunsakaling matalsikan sila ng laway kapag sumigaw siya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi rin naman niya sila masisisi. Hindi naman normal ang paulit-ulit na pagbahing kapag wala kang sakit. Dalawang beses, pwede pa, pero sampu? Kinapa niya ang noo niya. May sakit nga kaya siya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Swine flu... Hindi naman daw malala talaga yung swine flu e. Mas malala pa raw yung symptoms ng dengue. Hindi nga niya masyadong maintindihan kung ano ang dapat katakutan sa swine flu, dahil marami rin naman nakakarecover mula rito, maliban na lang dun sa mga napapabayaan at mahina talaga resistensya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Masaya rin paminsan magkasakit. Naalala niya nung huli siyang nilagnat. Buong araw lang siyang nakahiga, nagbabasa. Tanghalian niya tempura, tapos inuwian pa siya ng paborito niya cookies n' cream shake. Totoong wala siyang panlasa noong mga panahon na iyon, at nasuka pa niya ang shake pagkatapos, pero kahit na. Nagiging espesyal ka sa araw ng iyong pagkakasakit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero hindi naman masakit ulo niya ngayon e. Maluwag ang kanyang paghinga, at nagugutom siya, di tulad dati, na wala siyang kagana-gana. Edi ano ngayon ang problema?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;HACHOO! O Diyos ko, eto nanaman. Meron kayang invisible being na kumikiliti sa loob ng kanyang ilong? Kadiri naman. Imposible yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nararamdaman niya ang tingin ng mga tao sa paligid niya. Parang mga bolong tinataga siya sa kanyang likuran. Wala naman siyang masamang ginagawa, pero pakiramdam niya napakalaki ng kasalanan niya sa sankatauhan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lumabas siya ng mall at umupo sa may garden para maibsan ang kanyang konsensya. Mas makakagalaw ang hangin dito, kahit papano. Nang makontento na siya sa kanyang pwesto'y bumalik siya sa pag-iisip.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit kaya? May kasabihan yung mga matatanda diyan e. Yung... Pag binahing ka, may... ano uli yun? Ah! Pag bumahing ka, may nag-iisip sayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Natawa siya sa kanyang sarili. Nako, heto nanaman siya. Bilib talaga siya sa kapasidad niyang mangarap ng gising. Kasalan 'to ng mga manga't mga sineng pinanood niya noong bakasyon. Libre daw mangarap. Isang kalokohan! Pag-asa ang kabayaran ng mga pangarap, pag-asang kadalasa'y nauuwi sa kapighatian.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ilang beses na atang dumaloy ang ganitong pag-iisip sa kanyang utak, pero alam naman niyang wala paring magbabago. Aasa parin siya, at di kalauna'y mabibigo. Iyon ang batas ng kanyang buhay. Ito lamang ang paraan kung papaano siya matututo. Naiintindihan niya ang konseptong ito, pero hindi porke ganoo'y mababawasan na ang kirot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nasaan na kaya siya ngayon? Kumain na kaya siya? ...Iniisip niya kaya siya? Haha. Heto nanaman siya. Binatukan niya ang sarili niya. Tanga! Kaya ba naman nawiwirduhan na sayo yung lalaki e!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sana masaya siya, saan man siya ngayon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"HACHOO!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Napatalon siya. Sa kanyang pagmumuni-muni, hindi na niya namalayang may tumabi na pala sa kinauupuan niya. Mausok rin kasi ang lugar, kaya hindi niya agad nakita. Katakot naman... Pano kung may sakit 'tong bumahing sa tabi niya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sumilip siya sa kaliwa, at halos lumuwa ang kanyang mga mata.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Huminga ng malalim ang kanyang katabi. Nakatitig siya sa harap, pero halatang hindi niya napapansin ang mga nagdaraang tao. Tila ba naglalaho sila at ang mga pader sa kanyang paningin. Ano kaya iniisip niya? Pwede kayang...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lumunok siya at nagsalita. "Oy."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinanood niya siyang mapatalon at mapaluwa ang mga mata. Ganito ba ang itsura niya kanina? Ang ewan pala. Napangiti siya. Naeewanan ka, pero kahit naman anong itsura niya, ganun ka parin naman e, diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagtitigan sila, tapos, "...Hello," sabi niya, sabay ngiti.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naroon sila, nakaupo, isang dangkal lamang ang layo, at napag-isip-isipan niya na, malay mo, ewan natin, nahanap na niya ang dahilan ng kanyang misteryosong sakit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2981319266245073901?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2981319266245073901/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2981319266245073901' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2981319266245073901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2981319266245073901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/dahil-x-x.html' title='Dahil -(-x) = +x'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5252759732043533848</id><published>2009-06-21T23:35:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T00:00:53.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'>YEY!!! FINALLY!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay salamat. Nabuksan ko na rin ang Create Post page ng blog ko. Kahapon ko pa sana gustong magpost e, pero o well. Ganito talaga ang buhay~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So. Father's Day ngayon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Grabe. Iba talaga ang parents no? Inabuso talaga yung occasion. Heto sample (parang ganito yung usapan pero iba yung wording):&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daddy&lt;/b&gt;: Ysabel, pakuha naman nung glasses ko sa taas.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ako&lt;/b&gt;: Ikaw na. Naghohomework pa ako e.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daddy&lt;/b&gt;: But it's Father's Day today!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ako&lt;/b&gt;: E marami pa akong gagawin pagtapos nito!&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daddy&lt;/b&gt;: It's Father's Day today!&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So ayun. In the end, umakyat rin ako at kinuha ko yung salamin niyang napakasarap basagin. Nung inabot ko sa kanya, sabi niya, "Thank you," sabay ngiti. O Diyos ko! Nakakagigil talaga o.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero at least, masaya naman araw ko ngayon. Kumain kami sa Pan de Manila sa Marikina. ANG GANDA!!!!! Sobrang ganda! Meron siyang sariling... ambience. Kahit pwedeng lutong-bahay lang yung pagkain, lalong sumasarap dahil sa lugar. May duyan, kalesa, treehouse, mist fans, vines, and chess pieces galore! Basta magegets niyo ako pag kumain na kayo dun. And the best part of it all ay mura siya, at masarap yung barbecue!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Perfect na sana kaso nga lang medyo mainit. At medyo maingay, dahil malapit sa highway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Which reminds me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;NAGCOMMUTE AKO PAUWI NUNG SATURDAY!!!! Yes, my friends. You've read it right. I am now an independent woman of the world. Oo. Ganun kalaking bagay yun :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At papaano ito nangyari? Simple. I put my foot down. Hinarap ko yung parents ko, tapos sabi ko, "Mommy. Daddy. Magcocommute ako sa Saturday."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;There were the usual, Ang taas-taas na ng crime rate ngayon, Baka kung ano mangyari sayo, at Hindi ka pa marunong magcommute. But they were all in vain kasi matagal na nila yang excuses. Nung 1st year ako, "Sige. Pwede ka na magcommute sa 2nd year." Nung 2nd year ako, "Sige. Pwede ka na magcommute sa 3rd year." Nung 3rd year ako, "Sige. Pwede ka na magcommute sa 4th year." WELL. Last year na ng high school, at alangan naman sa college pa ako matuto. They had no choice &gt;:).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;That's probably every parent's nightmare: when their kids grow up. Alam ko namang nag-aalala lang sila para sakin, pero, sa totoo lang, medyo nagiging stupid na. Hindi ko man kayang buhayin ang sarili ko, hindi naman ibig sabihin nun na mabubuhay lang ako kung nandyan sila. Ah well. Parents.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So anyway. Heto na. My first commute home. Well, not really, kasi nakasabay ko sina Jolina at Dominique. It was more of, my first walk along Commonwealth to home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Anong walk along Commonwealth? Diba tapat na ng bahay niyo yung overpass? Bat ka pa naglakad ng Commonwealth?, ang mga bagay na maaari niyong itanong. Well, my friends. Masyado akong naexcite. Bumaba ako sa tapat ng Ever at naglakad pa papuntang St. Peter's, then tumawid ng overpass, then pumasok sa loob ng subdi at nakarating na sa aking home sweet home. Mga .5 km rin yun, ayon kay Lizbeth. Medyo pawisin na akong nakauwi sa bahay. :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ay grabe. Hatinggabi na pala. I need to go guys :D. Adios~&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5252759732043533848?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5252759732043533848/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5252759732043533848' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5252759732043533848'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5252759732043533848'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/yey-finally.html' title='YEY!!! FINALLY!!!!'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-920053455607880115</id><published>2009-06-16T19:50:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T20:30:42.442+08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>God, I love you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-920053455607880115?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/920053455607880115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=920053455607880115' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/920053455607880115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/920053455607880115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/god-i-love-you-so-much.html' title=''/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-9061242086975556220</id><published>2009-06-13T00:24:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T00:37:42.539+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Observation</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Napansin ko lang na parang onti-onti na akong nagiging emo king. :)). Ewan ba. Iba talaga ang hormones ng teenagers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa mga nag-aalala diyan, don't worry. Wala akong balak magpakamatay. Hindi man halata pero optimistic ako at heart. Kaya lang napakadilim ng blog na ito ay dahil ito ang aking Venting Machine ng lahat ng aking kalungkutan, para makafunction naman ako araw-araw.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hrmm. Ano pa ba? Well, sa totoo lang antok na ako, at nadrain ng mga luha (thanks Mom and Dad) at tawa (thanks Jolens :D), kaya hindi ko na maalala yung gusto kong sabihin. Maliligo na ako at matutulog na. Oo, 12:30 na at hindi pa ako naliligo. mwahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-9061242086975556220?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/9061242086975556220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=9061242086975556220' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9061242086975556220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9061242086975556220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/observation.html' title='Observation'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2752581563143451822</id><published>2009-06-12T22:36:00.011+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T10:27:25.136+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tawa! Hahaha.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nanood kami ng sine kanina. Isang indie film na pinangalanang UPCAT the Movie.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ako nagmamayabang, pero naniniwala akong papasa ako sa UPCAT. Simula kasi pagkabata ko, naging parte na ng buhay ko ang UP. Dun kami nagsisimba linggo-linggo. Dun kami nagpipicnic at nagwawalking at nagbabadminton at nagfifrisbee tuwing natitripan. Walang linggong lumilipas na hindi nagkekwento ang mga magulang ko tungkol sa buhay nila sa UP.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Matalino ako. Kaya kong gawin ang anumang nais kong gawin, at magawa ito nang higit pa sa maayos. At ito ang aking problema.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Simple lang naman gusto ko e. Hindi ko na uulitin kung anu-ano ang mga ito kasi pinost ko na rin naman dito dati. Hanapin niyo nalang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isang pagsisinungaling ang pagsabi ko na gusto kong maging doktor. Ang sarap sana ng buhay kung gusto ko ngang maging doktor, pero hindi e. Sawa na ako sa pagsisinungaling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang nilagay ko bilang first choice ko sa application form ay BS Economics, 2nd choice BA Philosophy, hindi dahil gusto ko sa economics. Masaya mag-aral ng economics (kahit pa tatlong bebes palang kami nakakapaglesson) at sigurado akong marami akong matutulungan kapag nag-economics ako. Marami akong matutulungan at kikita pa ako. Diba yun yung gusto ninyo, Mommy, Daddy?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa pinanood naming sine kanina, ang nilagay ng bida na first choice ay Malikhaing Pagsusulat. Malikhaing Pagsusulat. Creative Writing. Ang kursong pinipilit kong hindi tingnan nang ako'y namimili pa ng kurso.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mahilig ako magsulat. Maraming nagsasabi na magaling ako magsulat. Pero hindi ko mapili ang Creative Writing. Bakit?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dahil matalino ako. Masyadong matalino para magsulat, sabi nila. Pano na lang lahat ng pinag-aralan mo?, sabi nila. Paano na lang yung galing mo sa Science?, sabi nila. Sasayangin mo ba ang lahat ng yan para lang makapagsulat?, tanong nila. Walang pera sa pagsusulat, sabi nila.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oo, walang pera sa pagsusulat. Oo, gusto kong sayangin ang lahat para makapagsulat. Gusto kong ibalik ang oras at ibagsak ang lahat ng subjects na kinuha ko na hindi related sa English or Filipino, para hindi na sila magreklamo pa. Gusto kong magsulat ng mga istorya, magbasa ng mga libro, magbigay buhay sa mga letra ng alpabeto. Pero ano ba namang pakialam ng mundo sa gusto ko?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nang matapos ang palabas ay medyo naiiyak na ako. Nagkamali ako. Bakit ko sinabing gusto kong pumasok sa business, gayong gusto ko lang namang mamuhay ng simple at magsulat?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"O bakit ka malungkot?" tanong ni Da. "Pangit ba yung sine?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi. Napakaganda niya. Panoorin niyo sa Robinsons Ortigas. Palabas hanggang June 16. "Hindi," sagot ko. "nagsisisi lang ako."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bakit? Gusto mo nanaman magpalit ng course?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Oo. Nagsisisi ako. Dapat Creative Writing nilagay ko, o kaya Malikhaing Pagsusulat."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ano ba yan," sabi niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Para sa mga hindi nakakaalam, simula nang mabigay ang application form hanggang sa mapasa ito ay nakapagdesisyon na ako ng mga sampung beses kung aling kurso ang aking papasukin. Ngayon alam ko na kung bakit. Hindi ko matanggap na piliin ang gusto ko. Pero ano ba naman pakialam nila sa ganoong klaseng mga bagay?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Maya-maya ay nakita kong magkatabi ang aking mga magulang, pinag-uusapan ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Si Ysabel, nagpalit nanaman ng gusto. Dapat daw nag-Creative Writing na lang daw siya," sabi ni Da.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At nagtawanan sila.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko parin maintindihan kung bakit nila pinagtawanan yun, gayong sila lang naman ang dahilan kung bakit pumili ako ng kursong ayaw ko. Dahil ayaw ko silang masaktan at mag-alala. Gusto ko ring mabayaran ang lahat ng utang na loob ko sa kanila. Pwedeng-pwede namang Malikhaing Pagsusulat ang ilagay ko, pero hindi ko yun ginawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat ba nila akong pagtawanan? Minahal ko lang naman sila e. Napakalaking katatawanan ba nun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2752581563143451822?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2752581563143451822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2752581563143451822' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2752581563143451822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2752581563143451822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/tawa-hahaha.html' title='Tawa! Hahaha.'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2938437782083858961</id><published>2009-06-09T20:05:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T20:29:44.127+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rason ng Baliw</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gusto kong tumakas. Gusto kong sumakay sa isang lumang kotse at tumakas. Maglakbay, papunta kahit san mang lupalop ng mundo. Titira ako kung san man may bubong, kakain kung san man may murang pagkain, at maglalakbay patungo sa kawalan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sawang sawa na ako sa buhay na 'to. Lagi na lang naghihintay, at para saan? Sa katuparan ng mga pangarap? Pero hindi na ako naniniwala sa katuparan ng mga pangarap. Simple lang ang gusto ko sa mundo, kaya alam kong hindi matutupad ang mga pangarap ko. Kasimplehan ang magdadala ng kaligayahan, at alam naman nating hindi maligaya ang mundong ginagalawan natin ngayon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Araw-araw, naghihintay. Hindi ko na alam kung para saan. Para sa tawag ng Diyos? Ngunit hindi ako matapang. Hindi ko siguro kaya ang anumang gustong ipagawa sakin ng Diyos. Mahina ako, duwag, imperpekto. Si Ysabel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko na alam kung para saan pa itong buhay na 'to. Bakit pa ba ako nagpupursiging harapin ang sikat ng araw bawat umaga? Paminsan pinag-iisipan ko kung ano ang mangyayari kung ako'y sumuko na sa kawalan ng saysay ko sa mundo. Kasalanan ba talaga ang magpakamatay? Talaga bang mapupunta ka sa impyerno?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Marami naman akong napaligaya e. Alam ko yun. Masaya ako dahil dun. Ngunit napakarami rin ng mga nasaktan ko. Kadalasan ay hindi ko namamalayang nasasaktan ko na sila, pero moral na palusot ba yun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Moral. Pagod na pagod na ako sa moralidad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pumapasok ako sa school araw-araw. At para ano? Para raw magkaroon ng magandang kinabukasan. Putang ina, wala akong pakialam sa kinabukasan ko. Gusto ko lang mabuhay kada-segundo. Pero kahit iyon, napakahirap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mga artipisyal na ngiti. Masyado na akong madalas ngumiti. Iyon ang aking pangunahing depensa. Malungkot ba ako? Hindi, dahil palagi akong nakangiti. Hindi na ako nagagamot ng pag-iyak, katulad ng dati. Hindi na isang ulang nakakapagpaginhawa ang mga pumapatak na luha. Hindi ko na alam kung ano sila. Baka kaligayahang iniluluwa mula sa aking sistema.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Maganda ang buhay, pero sa totoo lang, sawang-sawa na talaga ako. Hindi ko alam kung ano pa ang dahilan ko, ang dahilan ng kahit na ano. Ang alam ko lang ay masarap umawit, at masarap magsulat, at kung gano kalaki ang kanilang pagkakamali nang sabihin nilang pinagpala ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2938437782083858961?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2938437782083858961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2938437782083858961' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2938437782083858961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2938437782083858961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/rason-ng-baliw.html' title='Rason ng Baliw'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7716910907042955990</id><published>2009-06-04T19:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-04T20:28:51.808+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swine Flu</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May joke ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ehe ehem.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sino ang unang biktima ng swine flu sa Pilipinas?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;(Sino?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Edi si&lt;br&gt;KATRINA HALILI! Binaboy siya e!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. So ayun ang aking joke. Narining ko yan sa isang ate sa Squadra. Oo. Nung nag-street dance ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat talaga hindi ko pinagkalat na sumali ako dun. Ngayon tuwing makikita ako ng mga kaklase ko *cough*(Denise and Royce)*cough*, sasabihin nila, "Dance, Ysa, dance!" Mga sira ulo talaga :)). Sa totoo lang di naman ako magaling sumayaw e. Masyado akong self-concious. I took the workshop on a whim. Yun bang, "Masubukan ngang sumayaw." As it turns out, I was not made for dancing :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko talaga maintindihan. Nung summer, gusto ko na magschool. Ngayon namang may pasok na, gusto kong bumagyo at masuspend ang klase at matulog at maglaro ng computer maghapon. Gusto ko naman yung klase ko. Tingin ko magiging masaya 4th year life ko. Pero&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;may bumabagabag sakin. Nakakapagpagabagag. Uy wow :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Seryoso na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sawa na talaga ako. Akala ko wala na. Pinagpilitan ko na wala na. Kaibigan na lang dapat diba? Pero wala e.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko inaasahan yung naramdaman ko nung nakita ko siya uli pagkatapos ng dalawang buwan ng pagkakahiwalay. Akala ko magiging, "Hey man! Musta na?", tulad ng pagbati ko sa iba ko pang mga kakilala nun. Pero nakita ko siya at&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;BAM.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ka alam na ganun ko pala siya namiss.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ba pinagpipilitan pa ang hindi naman maaari ng aking damdaming walang kwenta? Sa totoo lang, ayoko na talaga. Gusto kong maging masaya itong last year ko sa high school. Ayoko nang mamroblema pa sa mga bagay tulad ng pag-ibig.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero ano ba namang magagawa ko? Hatiin ang puso ko at alisin ang parte ng utak ko na inaalala siya, araw-araw, tuwing tumatanaw ako sa malayo? Hindi naman pwede yun. Mamamatay ako. Besides, gross yun. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wala. I am cursed to live a life of unrequited love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7716910907042955990?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7716910907042955990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7716910907042955990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7716910907042955990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7716910907042955990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/swine-flu.html' title='Swine Flu'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6784827277902207701</id><published>2009-06-03T22:40:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T22:54:01.984+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ozone</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Eto yung inaatupag ko habang nagdidiscuss ung mga teachers ko sa review.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;You were dancing to a pop song.&lt;br&gt;The hair and smoke was getting in your eyes.&lt;br&gt;Your eyes were pits in the great black sea.&lt;br&gt;I watched you, then I sighed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You were moving to the music.&lt;br&gt;There was the music, nothing else existed.&lt;br&gt;But I was there and there you were&lt;br&gt;There you were and nothing else existed.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You were a one-woman force dancing to the beat.&lt;br&gt;The vibrations shook the very foundations of my heart.&lt;br&gt;Your lover was in the smoky air.&lt;br&gt;Your lover was in the pulsing ground.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You were there, and you were dancing.&lt;br&gt;I was there, and I was suffocating.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The drinks are free, the night is young.&lt;br&gt;I'm the one note in that rhythm left unsung.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p&gt;Haha. So alam ko namang walang kwenta itong poem na 'to, pero wala lang. Nagsawa lang ako sa pagsusulat ng stories. Poems naman. Ganun naman lagi e. Pinagsasawaan lang. Sana magsawa na rin ako sayo. *sigh*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6784827277902207701?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6784827277902207701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6784827277902207701' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6784827277902207701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6784827277902207701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/06/ozone.html' title='Ozone'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5238664048392284797</id><published>2009-05-23T09:55:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T10:21:38.449+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Much Ado About Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinag-iisipan ko kung babaguhin ko na ba yung blog layout ko, kasi antagal-tagal na niyang naka-display dito. Pero sa totoo lang, isa akong dakilang tamad, at hindi pa naman ako nagsasawa sa layout ko, dahil isa siyang masterpiece of digital art (ako gumawa e :P).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi na ako mapakali. Gusto ko nang mag-school! Sana umikot na ang araw ng siyam na beses sa loob lamang ng isang minuto. Marami sigurong mamamatay nun, pero parang wala na akong pakialam. Oo, salot ako sa lipunan. Ako yung nagdadasal para sa bagyo kapag ayaw kong pumasok ng school, kahit pa maraming masasaktan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang boring ng review classes. Totoo, tumataas yung self-esteem ko tuwing umaattend ako, kasi alam ko yung karamihan ng mga sagot, at ang tataas ng grades ko tuwing assessment. Pero maliban dun, wala na. Gusto ko nang pumasok!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May tsismis na lumabas sa news, na mapopostone daw ang classes by one month, dahil may case na raw ng Influenza Virus dito. Ah, wala akong pakialam! Hindi na talaga ako makapaghintay!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat nag-aaral ako para sa SAT ngayon, dahil magtatake na ako ng test in two weeks, Pero sa totoo lang, hindi ko na kelangan. Kinuha ko lang naman yun dahil undecided pa ako kung ano gusto ko eh, para marami ang options ko kunsakali. Pero ngayon na magdodoctor na ako, di ko na kelangan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Excited na talaga akong pumasok! Kahit sa pagbabasa ko ng manga, kitang-kita excitement ko. Lahat ng mga binabasa ko, meh kinalaman sa school. Buhay ng mga high school students...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakakalungkot. Isang taon na lang, at hindi na ako tatawaging high school student. Hindi na uli ako papasok ng naka-uniform. Wala nang classmates talaga, na magkakasama mula umaga hanggang gabi. Wala na yung SM, ang pugad ng mga Scientians. Wala na yung mabahong CR kung san di mo maflush yung mga kubeta at madalas na walang tubig. Wala na yung mga klase na hindi sisiputan ng mga teacher dahil lang hindi nila feel. Wala na yung BJ ni Ate Duday (kahit pa hindi ako umiinom nun). Wala na ang QueSci.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Huling taon na natin sa High School. High School Seniors na tayo mga tsong! Gawin nating masaya 'tong taon na 'to ha :D.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5238664048392284797?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5238664048392284797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5238664048392284797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5238664048392284797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5238664048392284797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/05/much-ado-about-nothing.html' title='Much Ado About Nothing'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4419962112119001933</id><published>2009-05-20T21:45:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T22:11:48.681+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wishlist</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;ermm... Okay. That wasn't completely true. Going to Japan isn't the only thing I want out of life. I'm fixing it just in case God's listening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to fall in love, and change for the better. I want everyone I love to change for the better. I want a house with a white baby grand and a Siberian Husky. I want a loyal and loving husband, who doesn't have to go out of his way to be romantic, but complete me by just being there. I want two kids, a boy and a girl, preferably twins, but I don't really care. I want them to grow up well, and become whatever they want and need to be. Preferably, they'd be good, but I just want them to be themselves, and I'll be there whatever, whenever.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to help people. I want to save lives not just through medicine, but in ways that really matter. I don't really care if I get recognized for it. If I do, then it's just one of life's rare rainbows.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to read books. Novels, short stories, any stories. I'd like to write them too, but it's ok if I never get to finish anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want all the Coldplay albums and singles ever released to the public.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to learn how to cook, and to do it well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want my friends and family to know how much I love them, though I have trouble expressing it most of the time. I get flustered too easily.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to live the rest of my life as me. There's no holding back now :D.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4419962112119001933?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4419962112119001933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4419962112119001933' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4419962112119001933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4419962112119001933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/05/wishlist.html' title='Wishlist'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1896208576271776004</id><published>2009-05-20T19:45:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T20:07:49.865+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Destiny</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I am Ysabel Caballes, a senior of Quezon City Science High School, and I'll be one of the best doctors the Philippines will ever see.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I know now that all my life I've been running away from what I was meant to be. I pretended to suck in Biology, purposely forgetting about it all, when I honestly find it very interesting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't want my son/daughter to grow up like me, always in doubt whether truly loved or not. Mother wasn't always there. I remember times when I cried and cursed the kids Mommy was looking after, when I was here all alone, with a genius brother and a sister everyone always seems to prefer over me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I didn't have a happy childhood, but now, I feel grateful for it. If all the things that happened in the past didn't, both the good and the bad, I wouldn't have been the me I am now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's time to give back to my country, and to all the people who've cared for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Medicine in UP, a Doctorate in Todai. A trip to Japan is enough for me. Two years in Japan is enough for a lifetime. I want it so much that my heart nearly bursts every time I think about it. I'd lie down in the backseat of the car, and watch the canopy of evergreen leaves from the trees of Ateneo pass us by. Be sakura blossoms, I'd say. Be sakura blossoms. But all they did was blur away into the blue sky.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Japan, that's all I want. I love the Philippines, and I have no intention of running away to Japan to live there for the rest of my life. Just that and I'm complete.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I'll be the best you've ever known Philippines. I'll make you proud.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;God, everything will always be as you will. I just want this one wish granted. I won't make you regret it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1896208576271776004?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1896208576271776004/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1896208576271776004' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1896208576271776004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1896208576271776004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/05/destiny.html' title='Destiny'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8459303512146726602</id><published>2009-05-06T19:38:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T21:34:25.055+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 4)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;At sa wakas! Napost ko rin to :)). Matagal ko nang pinag-iisipang isulat to, kaso lang, masyado akong busy sa... ibang mga bagay. *cough*. Anyway, enjoy. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;P.S. I miss you guys so much.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Binili nila ang larawan dalawang araw matapos silang ipakasal. Hawak-kamay silang naglalakad sa dalampasigan nang makita nila itong nakasandal sa isang puno. Parang tinapon lang ang itim na pintura sa canvas, kahita pa eksakto ang kaliwa sa kanan. Nang una niya itong makita, nakita niya sa kanyang isipan ang isang napakagandang mariposa. P100 para sa unang pag-aari nilang mag-asawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dalawampung taon nang nakapaskil ang lawaran sa kanilang sala. Ito ang tanging bagay na hindi ginagalaw (maliban na lang tuwing ito'y nililinis) sa kanilang tahanan, ngunit palagi nalang ito nagbabago. Hindi niya mapaliwanag kung ano, o kung bakit, ang alam niya lang ay ang dating mariposa ay napalitan na ng uwak na kumakain ng laman-loob.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakaupo siya sa sofang nakatapat sa larawan, tahimik. Ganoon naman ngayon e. Tahimik na lang lagi. Wala na ang karaniwang ingay ng pagluluto, paglalaba, at paglilinis ng kanyang asawa. Wala na rin ang tunog ng tila mga paputok sa loob ng kwarto ng kanyang anak. Wala na, wala na sila...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isang buwan na siyang hindi nakakatikim ng alak. Naiinis na ang mga rebapips niya, pero wala siyang pakialam. Tumawa siya. Wala siyang pakialam.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Una siyang nakatikim ng alak nang ikasal sila ng kanyang irog. Sa totoo lang, halos idura niya ang unang lagok. Kinontento na lang niya ang sarili niya na itapon ang natitira pa sa baso sa pinakamalapit na halaman sa paligid. Mas matamis ang halik ng kanyang mahal.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ba nasira ang lahat? Ngayon na napag-isipan na niya, hindi rin niya maintindihan kung bakit siya nahumaling sa alak. Nakisama lang naman siya sa inuman ng mga katrabaho niya sa pabrika e, isang beses bawat buwan, sa araw ng suwelduhan. Hindi nalang niya namalayan ang unti-unting pagdalas ng mga inumang ito, hanggang huli na ang lahat, at wala na ang lahat ng mahalaga sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mali siya, alam niyang mali siya. Handa siyang gawin ang kahit na ano, mapatawad lang siya. Hindi na niya kaya ito. Kelan niya huling niyakap ang kanyang mag-ina? Kelan niya huling sinabi na mahal niya sila? Dahil mahal niya si Sofia, mahal na mahal... Nararamdaman niyang naninikip ang kanyang dibdib... Dumidilim ang paligid... Ang bilis ng tibok ng puso niya... Pinapanood siya ng uwak habang dahan-dahan siya nahuhulog, tila isang papel na tinatangay ng hangin. Nakita niya ang laman na tinutuka ng uwak, at namistula niyang ito'y isang puso. Sofia... Sofia...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8459303512146726602?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8459303512146726602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8459303512146726602' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8459303512146726602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8459303512146726602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/05/kamatayan-at-kawalan-part-4.html' title='Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 4)'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1972669829219051054</id><published>2009-04-10T14:09:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T15:50:27.459+08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Just Couldn't Stay Away</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bigla akong napa-blog. O_o&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Si Luiz kasi e. Pinabasa yung blog niya. Nainggit tuloy ako. :)). Beware of the green monster. That saying can be deciphered in two ways, by the way. Mwahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's April 10, at alam kong napakalate na nito, pero gusto kong magpasalamat at magpaalam sa lahat ng nakasama ko during my third year in high school. This has been the best year of my life so far, mainly because you were a part of it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Salamat sa classmates ko, kahit dun sa mga kinainisan ko. Binigyan niyo ng drama... hindi. Ng saysay, ang buhay ko. Salamat kay Elaine, Jolina, Frances (though we still need to talk.), at Lizbeth. Hindi pa ako nagkakaroon ng mga kaibigan tulad niyo. Mabuhay ang Grupo Bente-Kwatro! Okay. Ang baduy :P. Salamat rin kay ano. Kilala mo na kaya kung sino ka?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko alam kung ano mangyayari sa atin next year. Iba na raw yung sectioning, sabi ng The Great Solomon. Medyo malungkot rin, kasi ang sabihin nun wala nang certainty na makakasama mo parin mga naging kaibigan at kaklase mo next year. (pero siguro good news rin yun sa iba. haha.) Pero diba mas exciting ang ganun? Basta nasa QueSci parin tayo, siguradong magiging memorable nanaman ang fourth year life natin!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1972669829219051054?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1972669829219051054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1972669829219051054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1972669829219051054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1972669829219051054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-just-couldnt-stay-away.html' title='I Just Couldn&apos;t Stay Away'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4749082116047010049</id><published>2009-03-24T20:37:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T21:10:10.512+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring it In</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stressed. Here's how I deal with stress.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's raining. It was the weather she liked most. The raindrops not too hard, not too soft. No wind. A breeze. Whirling around the room, splashing the pure clean smell of the wet earth on her face. Nothing to hear but the pelting rain, the dancing leaves, the rustling pages.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It was cool. She liked it cool. It cleared up her head. It swept up all those trivial troubles, opened up her mind to a fresh new story. A fresh new book.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;She lifted it up and pressed it to her face, inhaling the sweet sweet scent of pressed paper. She might die tomorrow, what did it matter? This was probably what heaven would smell like, books moist with rain.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Despite the calm, a thought managed to squeeze itself into the story stream. How much of her life had been lived in someone else's story? Most of it, probably. What was her story?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oh, she had a story. Everyone, everything had a story behind them. That's what made things interesting. Their stories. The emotions. The turmoil. The harmony.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;She wanted to eat it all up. If she'd been born in the medieval ages, she'd probably be a traveling bard. Except that was impossible, since there was no female traveling bard. She wouldn't give up the magic of childbirth for anything.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah, little baby. When shalt thou ever arrive? She wanted to feel it's soft little kick at her belly. Ah, little baby. A fresh new story, one she couldn't write, only watch and guide from the sidelines, like those supporting actors she always loved in TV soaps.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hungry. So hungry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Let me eat up your story.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4749082116047010049?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4749082116047010049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4749082116047010049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4749082116047010049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4749082116047010049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/03/bring-it-in.html' title='Bring it In'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2437444520008346911</id><published>2009-03-19T21:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T21:45:50.002+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck you.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;A wall. I knew it existed, yet I persisted in ignoring it. Transparent then, now translucent. I'm tired of living for those fucking moments when our eyes meet and you speak. Love doesn't run out, but strength does. And I've always been weak. I've always been so stupidly weak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I don't know why I expected anything to happen. I don't know what I was expecting to happen. I don't want to look back. I want no further shame. A dog dragged on by a leash, except you weren't holding it. Dreams.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;There's nothing to be missed, as nothing ever happened. It's time to change that prince's face again. I've come out disillusioned. Damn the capacity of humans for imagination.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;School's about to end. I feel the heat. Every second, every day. I won't have to see you again. Good then. I can't wait. I have to wait.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Build up a barrier round the perimeter. I'll never open up my walls to you again. Never again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I want to curse you and my fucking illusions to hell. But nobody is ever at fault. Mistakes' little things no one ever notices, piling up for explosion. Hell's not the worst in this life's spectrum. Loving you is.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Face it, we both lost. But why must only I feel the piercing thorn?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2437444520008346911?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2437444520008346911/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2437444520008346911' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2437444520008346911'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2437444520008346911'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/03/fuck-you.html' title='Fuck you.'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-9169912919950440405</id><published>2009-03-15T16:01:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T16:10:16.712+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ms. Universal Pictures Pageant</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Galing keh Frances :3&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anong isasagot nyo pg tnanong kyo ng&lt;br /&gt;lalake ng gnito..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.bat ang ganda mo?&lt;br /&gt;- Dahil anak ako ng nanay ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.kmaen kna?.treat sna kta..&lt;br /&gt;- Yey! Sige. Kain tayo sa Banana Leaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.do you need a boyfriend?&lt;br /&gt;- I just need pepperspray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.bat ang sungit mo?&lt;br /&gt;- Kasi masungit ka rin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.bat ang tgal nyo sa cr?&lt;br /&gt;- Kasi hindi kami basta-basta nagshoshoot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.bat ang cute m?.&lt;br /&gt;- Dahil anak ako ng tatay ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.date tyo?.&lt;br /&gt;- Tao tayo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.bkt mgnda ka?&lt;br /&gt;- God knows. Stop asking those questions Xl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.let's get married.&lt;br /&gt;- (depende sa paraan &gt;:) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.gsto na yta kta..?&lt;br /&gt;- Haha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.bt nagtataray kapa?.&lt;br /&gt;- Bakit nangungulit ka pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.gsto mo ng smoothie?.&lt;br /&gt;- Not really. I prefer Rocky Road :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.wt gsto mong gift?&lt;br /&gt;- World peace (masyado nang na-immerse sa mga tanong e :)). Ms. Universe ito.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.mhilig kba sa mtamis?&lt;br /&gt;- Hindi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.bt gnyan tingin nyo saming mga lalake?&lt;br /&gt;- Bakit ganito tingin niyo saming mga babae?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.Babaero b kmi? d nmn ako ganun ah?&lt;br /&gt;- Haha. Babaero lang nagsasabi nun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.bt lgi kaung may picture sa salamin?&lt;br /&gt;- Wala naman akong ganun e :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.pwd tyo mgmall?.&lt;br /&gt;- Sige. Daan tayong Fully Booked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.i love u!&lt;br /&gt;- Ay ako rin, gusto ko yung letter u. :3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-9169912919950440405?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/9169912919950440405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=9169912919950440405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9169912919950440405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9169912919950440405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/03/ms-universal-pictures-pageant.html' title='Ms. Universal Pictures Pageant'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7214924368976477283</id><published>2009-03-10T20:29:00.007+08:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T23:36:29.633+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pagtakas at Pagtalikod</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Special request ng isa dyan na magpost na uli ako sa umaalikabok ko nang blog :)). Pano ba naman ako makakaresist sa isang nanlibre diba? Para sa mga english groupmates ko, don't worry. Ginawa ko 'to tuwing may nagloload, so technically, walang nasayang na oras. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This story is based on that of my lolo's.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang, nabasa na po ba ninyo yung nakasulat sa dyaryo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi pa?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ay oo nga pala, nawala yung mga salamin mo. Kwento ko nalang po sa inyo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magkakapensyon na raw po kayong mga beteranong lumaban sa World War II. Ang galing ano? Medyo late na rin, pero better late than never naman po diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang? Bakit namutla kayo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Alikabok. Abo. Bomba. Baril. Eroplano. Bayonete. Hiyaw. Dugo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi na niya kilala ang bayan niyang ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nasaan na ang mga puno? Nasaan na ang mga tindahan? Nasaan na ang mga taong hindi nakasuot ng mga kulay ng digmaan? Bakit sila nakagapos, gayong sa kanila ang bayang ito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dahil nabigo sila. Dahil nahulog na ang Bataan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi na niya alam kung gaano katagal na silang naglalakad. Marahil ay kalahating oras pa lang, marahil ay isang dekada na. Naghalo na sa kanyang paningin ang mapuputi't kayumangging mga multo sa kanyang harap at likod. Nakabantay sa tabi ang mga mamamatay-tao.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ilan na ba ang nahulog? Naalala niya ang pagbagsak ng isang lalaki sa harap malapit sa kanyang pwesto. Naalala niya ang ungol nito habang pilit siyang pinapatayo ng mga demonyo. Naalala niya ang kanyang mga panaghoy nang tagain at hampasin na siya ng mga bayonete, ang pagtalsik ng dugo ng kanyang kababayan sa kanyang pisngi.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ilan na ba ang nagsubok tumakas? Hindi niya alam, ngunit alam niya ang kinalabasan nilang lahat. Nakikita pa rin niya ang pagtagos ng mga bala sa likod ng mga tumatakas, ang pagbagsak ng mga ito, ang pagkirot ng mga katawan, at sa wakas, ang katahimikan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mainit. Iniisip niyang naaamoy na niya ang nasusunog niyang batok.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Uhaw na siya. Gutom na siya. Kay sakit na ng kanyang mga paa. Kung magpahulog na kaya siya?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isang bulong na gumising sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Samahan mo akong tumakas."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lumingon siya, at laking gulat niya nang makita niya ang kanyang kababata. Limang taon na silang hindi nagkikita, at hindi niya alam kung paano niya ito nakilala. Limang taon na silang hindi nagkikita, pero parang isang milenya na. Napakarami nang nangyari.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tinitigan niya ang mukha ng batang kasabay niya dating umakyat ng puno, sumugal sa mga gagamba, maglaro ng sepak, tumanda. Nagdesisyon siyang kung hindi man sila makakatakas ng sabay, ay mamamatay silang sabay. Sapat na iyon para sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumango siya nang mapansing wala nang mga demonyong nakatingin sa kanila.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Martsa, martsa. May sarili nang buhay ang kanyang mga paa. Hindi na niya maramdaman ang mga ito. Sana lang ay hindi na rin niya maramdaman pa ang ibang sakit ng kanyang katawan. Kelangan na nilang tumakas, sapagkat alam niyang malapit na siyang bumagsak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ilang minuto pa't may natanaw silang batis. Lumiyab ang kanyang lalamunan. Nakita niyang magsitakbuhan ang karamihan sa kanila. Nakita niya ang mga demonyong magkandagulo. Takbuhan. May tumapik sa kanya. Lumingon siya at nakita ang likod ng kanyang kababatang patakbo sa kabilang direksyon, palayo sa batis.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Takbo! Lipad, mga paa! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May sumigaw. Narinig niya ang klik ng mga baril sa kanilang likuran. Naramdaman niya ang pagtutok ng mga ito. Narinig niyang ang pagputok.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dalawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tatlo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tatlong segundo na, at biglang bumagsak ang nasa harap niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Patuloy pa rin siyang tumakbo, at nang makalampas ng onti siya'y lumingon muli. Hinding hindi niya kailanman malilimutan ang mukhang iyon. Ang mga matang wala nang kislap sa mukha ng batang kasama niyang tumanda.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumakbo siya nang tumakbo, hanggang hindi na niya makayanan pa. Sumandal siya sa isang puno, humihingal. Naalala niya ang mukha na iyon, at napuno ng kahihiyan ang kanyang kalooban. Bakit hindi siya tumigil? Bakit niya siya iniwan?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naalala niya ang iba pa niyang kababayan na hanggang ngayo'y nagmamartsa pa. Bakit siya nakatakas, at sila hindi? Bakit siya nabuhay, at ang iba'y namatay? Bakit?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sumandal siya sa puno, umiiyak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang? Tang? nag-aalalang tawag ng kanyang apo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tang, ano nangyayari sayo? Tang, bakit kayo umiiyak? Hindi ba kayo masaya? Masusuklian na rin lahat ng ginawa niyo nung digmaan. Tang. Bakit kayo umiiyak?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7214924368976477283?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7214924368976477283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7214924368976477283' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7214924368976477283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7214924368976477283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/03/pagtakas-at-pagtalikod.html' title='Pagtakas at Pagtalikod'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-7393414119128741999</id><published>2009-02-25T21:20:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T21:25:02.519+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Asar</title><content type='html'>Tae. Hindi ko na maintindihan sarili ko. Bigla na lang akong naiinis out of the blue. Paminsan meh nagtatanong lang, tapos mapipikon na ako. Inaasar ako, yung normal lang, yung barahan lang, tapos masasaktan na agad ako. Hindi ko na talaga maintindihan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bwisit. Nakakainis. Gusto kong magkulong. Gusto kong mabalot ng mga ulap at malunod sa ulan. Gusto kong mapag-isa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-7393414119128741999?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/7393414119128741999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=7393414119128741999' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7393414119128741999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/7393414119128741999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/02/asar.html' title='Asar'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-883088000401214159</id><published>2009-02-22T21:03:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T22:21:15.051+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lotto Jackpot, dahil hindi masamang mangarap</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Lampas P300 million na ang jackpot prize sa Lotto ngayon. Ang tanging panahon na hindi ka makakakita ng isang lotto booth na punong-puno ng mga tao ay kapag sarado na ito. Lahat ng kilala kong kayang tumaya, tumataya. Ang lolo ko bumibili ng lotto ticket once a day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kapag kausap ko si Mommy ngayong mga araw na ito, mas madalas sa hindi na mapapadpad ang usapan namin sa Lotto. Meron nang mga plano si Mommy kunsakaling kami nga ang manalo sa Lotto. Eto ang ilan sa mga yun: magpapatayo na kami ng bahay sa sampung taon nang bakanteng lote namin sa may Villa Firenze; bibilhin namin yung bagong labas na CRV, yung may sandalan na sa gitna para hindi na magreklamo si Maria, na siyang pinakabata at pinakamaliit samin, kaya laging nakahandusay ang ulo niya sa gitna. Marami pang iba, pero ayokong umabot ng madaling araw sa kakasulat ng mga pantasya ng aking ina sa perang mapapalanunan niya sa lotto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kung si Daddy naman ang tatanungin, ang gusto lang talaga niyang mangyari ay makapagretiro sila ni Mommy sa isang mapayapang gubat sa Palawan. Bibili raw siya ng motorsiklo at araw-araw raw silang magcucruise sa mga karsada ng Palawan nang nakasuot ng mga leather jacket. Isipin na lang daw namin na sila sina Brad Pitt at Angelina Jolie. Sinubukan ko, pero nauwi lang ang lahat sa isang nasayang na almusal at isang maruming lababo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Si Kuya walang mga sinasabing plano. Baka kasi lahat ay para sa crush niyang maganda. Ang isip ni Kuya:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;i&gt;Kapag nanalo ako, liligawan ko na siya dahil meron na akong financial stability. Lalabas kami linggo-linggo, lahat ng mamahali't magagandang bagay ay ireregalo ko sa kanya, at kapag kinasal na kami, sisiguraduhin kong matutupad ang dream wedding niya. Maghohoneymoon kami sa Europe, at magkakaroon kami ng isang dosenang anak. Pagkatapos ay...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Opo, sadyang ganito po mangarap ang pamilya ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Si Maria wala nang ibang inisip kundi shopping. Naaawa nga ako sa magiging asawa niya e. Mawawalgas ang lahat ng pera ng malas na lalaking yun. Tanging kalansay lamang ang magiging mas payat pa sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Para sa akin naman ay magiging sagot na ito sa lahat ng aking problema pagdating sa kolehiyo. Hindi na ako kailangan pang mamili sa pagitan ng Pera at Kaligayahan. Hindi na ako kelangan pang mangarap na sana makapangasawa ako ng mayamang lalaki. Wala nang balakid sa pagsusulat ko, malaya na ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang sarap mangarap ano? Pano kaya kung matupad nga ang mga pangarap natin? Liligaya kaya talaga tayo? Posible kayang makontento tayo? Imposible. Pero hindi masamang mangarap. Huwag na lang kayong humiling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-883088000401214159?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/883088000401214159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=883088000401214159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/883088000401214159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/883088000401214159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/02/lotto-jackpot-dahil-hindi-masamang.html' title='Lotto Jackpot, dahil hindi masamang mangarap'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6412731620030276735</id><published>2009-02-20T23:35:00.022+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T15:19:02.996+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 3)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Finally :)), sinimulan ko na rin ang part 3 ng aking mini-serye. Grabe. Kamuntikan na akong mag-hiatus dahil sa overload ng schoolwork. Nakakatulog ako madaling araw na sa *ehem* kakagawa ng mga howework at projects at sa kakaaral *ehem*. Thank God for EDSA. Wala tuloy kaming pasok sa Monday :D. Yey! I finally found the time (and the inspiration) to write. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sabi na nga ba't dapat nagpahuli na lang siya e. Kelan ba naman nangyaring magsisimula ang isang 9:00 gimmick ng 9:00 kapag kausap niya ang mga kaibigan niya? Sinilip niya uli ang kanyang relo. 10:00. Grabe, isang oras na, tapos dalawa pa lang silang nakatambay sa dakilang meeting place ng kanilang eskwelahan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Isang oras na... Kadalasan naman ang pinakahuli sa kanila dumarating 45 minutes pagkatapos ng usapan e. Sobra na 'tong isang oras. Tapos ito pang kasama niya... Kring!!! Hay, sa wakas! Nagreply na rin ang walang kwenta niyang kabarkada.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"hey danielle. haha. sori l8 rep. sumthing came up kasi e. d na ako mkkpunta dyan. enjoy n lng kau dyan :D"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kring! Eto pa isa. "wah danielle. sori Xl. d n ako mkksma s inyo. bigla kcng naospital ung lola ko. nxt tym n lng uli :).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ok na sana e, pero Kring!! "di n ko mkksma danielle! ano kc e, bglang naospital c lola." Ano?! "lam mo nman, msrap dumlw s may sakit. meh nkhndang merienda :)). sige, bye n muna :3"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tinitigan niya ang kasama niya. Nakasandal siya sa pader, ningangatngat yung straw ng inumin niya. Nagkasabayan ang kanilang mga mata, at Diyos ko! Sana naman hindi siya namula. Taeng mga kaibigan... Naset-up siya!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ano na raw?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Namistula niyang unang beses nilang mapag-isa na silang dalawa lang. Argh! Kung umuwi na lang kaya siya? Di pwede. Walang magsusundo sa kanya. Nasa trabaho na mga magulang niya, tapos ang lolo naman niya parang naglalaro ng Grand Theft Auto Vice City tuwing nagdadrive. Ayaw rin naman siyang payagang mag-commute. Pano kaya siya makakatakas? Hay... Sabihin niya muna sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Di raw sila nakakapunta. Naospital yung lola ng dalawa sa kanila."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Haha, asa. Ano yun, nagsabunutan mga lola nila?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Malay mo."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ang baba naman ng probability na mangyayari yun."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Di naman. I-compute mo muna."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Wala akong sapat na data. Anyway, ano nang gagawin natin ngayon?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hmmm... Gusto mo bang umuwi na lang?" Sabihin mo oo, sige na. Sabihin mo hindi, please lang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ayoko nga! Sayang naman get-up ko. Isang oras kaya akong nag-wax ng buhok. Wala kang ibang choice kundi tiisin ako hanggang gabi. Hindi kita papayagang iwan ako dito."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naging tambol sa piyesta ang puso niya. "Madaya ata. Pero sige, kawawa ka naman. Tara. San tayo unang pupunta?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hmm... Hanggang gabi naman usapan natin e. Lakarin nalang natin yung buong mall. Bahala na kung san tayo mapadpad."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"E pano kung mapadpad tayo sa Boys' CR? Kawawa naman ako."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Don't worry. Sasabihin ko na lang kaibigan kitang drag queen."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Subukan mo lang."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;hr&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi na niya maalala kung kelan pa siya huling naging ganito kasaya. Baka nga hindi pa nangyayari yun. Nirvanah. Posible bang marating ito kahit humihinga ka pa? Dahil sa ganoong paraan niya lamang mailalarawan ang araw na ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kapayapaan. Ngayon lang na naalis na ang mga tinik sa kanyang kalooban niya natuklasan ang mga tinik na yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Tungkol san yung librong yan?" tanong ng kasama niya. Gabi na, at itong bookshop na ang kanilang huling hantungin bago sila maghiwalay. Bakit ba kailangan pa silang maghiwalay? Natusok siya ng isa pang tinik.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Tungkol sa isang battered wife na hindi makapagdesisyon kung iiwanan na ba niya ang asawa niya, na mahal parin niya, o hindi."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ganun ba." Hindi niya maintindihan kung bakit bigla siyang nanlamig sa dalawang salita na yun. Tila ba hiniwa siya ng yelo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagtuloy na lang siya sa pagbabasa dahil wala siyang maisip na sabihin pa. Eto nanaman siya, tumatakas gamit ang mga nobela. Buong buhay niya nabuhay sa storya ng iba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Mahilig ka sa mga libro ano?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ang pagbabasa ng libro ang tanging bisyo ko."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Isa kang dakilang mamaw."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"At least naman, may natututunan ako dito. Medyo mahal din ang bisyong 'to, pero at least hindi ako nakakasakit ng iba, di tulad ng mga lasingero at chain smokers."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Oo nga." Naroon nanaman ang nyebe na humahawi sa kanya. Nararamdaman niya ang nalalapit na pagtatapos ng kasiyahan ng araw na ito. Nagsimula nang umikot ang gulong.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Magkano yan?" tanong uli ng kanyang kasama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Binaligtad niya ang libro. Halos gumuho ang kanyang mundo nang tingnan niya ang presyo. "P 1050."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tumawa siya. "Ang mahal nga ng bisyo mo. Bibilhin mo pa ba yan?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"P 300 na lang laman ng pitaka ko e."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bumili ka pa kasi ng t-shirt e."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ikaw kaya nagsabing maganda yung design nun!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dinukot ng kasama niya ang kanyang pitaka at binilang kung magkano po ang laman nito. "Mukhang masuwerte ka a. Meh  mga P2000 pa ako dito. Akin na yang librong yan."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Umawit ang mga anghel at nagsiliparan ang mga lobo. Pasigaw niyang niyakap ang kanyang kasama. "Yey!!! May bago akong libro!! Haha, I love you!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bigla siyang natigilan at bumitaw sa kanyang pagkakapit. Nanigas rin ang mukha ng kanyang kasama. Takbo, takbo! sigaw ng kanyang isipan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit ba napakatanga niya? Mag-isip bago magsalita! Takbo na, takbo na! Pero mula sa kanyang mga paa'y may tumubo na mga ugat. Eto siya, sinusulyapan ang kanyang mahal, umaasa, nagbabakasakali.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Katahimikan. Nakakabingi. Kinakain na ang kanyang kaluluwa. Isang kamatis ang kanyang mukha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi na niya matiis. Kelangan na niyang magsinungaling.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Huy, jok-"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Mahal din kita."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi. Hindi ito maaari. Binibiro lang siya. Hindi ito totoo. Huwag kang magpapauto.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero hindi siya tumatawa. Bigla niyang hinawakan ang kanyang kamay. Apoy. Nasusunog na siya. Lumiliyab ang buong paligid niya. Pag-ibig. Pagmamahal. Kabiyak ng kanyang puso. Natagpuan na kita.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Mahal na mahal kita. Sa umaga wala akong ginawa kundi sulyapan ka, at sa gabi wala akong ginawa kundi humiling na mag-umaga na muli, kahit pa hindi kita makasama, basta lang mapalapit ako sayo. Ikaw ang ibig sabihin ng Diyos nang ginawa niya tayo. Aksidente lang, nagkamali siya sa iba, pero ikaw ang ibig sabihin niya."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi niya alam kung ano ang sasabihin niya. Hindi niya alam kung kelangan ba'y may sabihin pa siya. Hindi niya alam kung ano ang dapat gawin. Hindi niya alam kung meron pa ba siyang dapat gawin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit alam niyang mahal niya rin ito. Corny man, pero alam niyang hindi niya kayang mabuhay nang wala siya. Alam niyang hindi siya kailanman iibig ng iba. Alam niyang kompleto na ang buhay niya. Alam niyang kung mamatay na siya ngayon ay hindi siya mamamatay ng maligaya, dahil kahit kompleto na ang kanyang buhay, ay alam naman niyang maiiwan ang kanyang kabiyak sa buhay na ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Mahal kita Danielle. Sa sobrang pagmamahal ko para sayo, papabayan kita sa buhay mo. Lalayo na ako sayo."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ano to? Ano nangyayari? "...Pano mo nagawang sabihin yun? Hindi ko kayang mawala ka. Mahal din kita."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pumikit at ngumiti ang kasama niya, tila ba nilalasap ang mga salita niya. "Ang sarap pakinggan ng mga salitang yun, pero hindi kita hahayaang sabihin pa uli yun. Kelangan kong lumayo sayo, dahil ayaw kitang saktan. Minahal rin ng ama ko ang ina ko katulad ng pagmamahal ko sayo, at tingnan mo sila ngayon. Isang duguang kalansay ang ina ko at ayokong mangyari yun sayo."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hindi ikaw ang ama mo."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Pero anak niya ako, at sapat na yung dahilan. Masyado kang importante sakin para mahalin. Sorry, Danielle, pero ayaw kitang saktan."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hindi mo alam kung gano kasakit mo na akong sinaktan."&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Maniwala ka sakin, alam ko. Gusto mong bumuka ang lupa at lamunin ka na ng mundo, kung yun ang makakapagpawala ng sakit, diba? Katulad ko."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Lumayas ka sa pagmumuka ko."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang mga mata niya siguro ang mga pinakanakakalungkot na bagay na nakita niya. Pwede siyang malunod sa mga matang yun, pero alam niyang hindi siya papayagan. Pinanood niya siyang tumalikod at umalis ng bookstore. Maya-maya pa niya napansin na hawak parin niya ang librong pinag-ugatan ng lahat. Hinalikan niya ito, tinapon at sinipa, at binalik sa pinagkuhanan niya nang walang nakakakita sa kanya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6412731620030276735?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6412731620030276735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6412731620030276735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6412731620030276735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6412731620030276735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/02/kamatayan-at-kawalan-part-3.html' title='Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 3)'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4438875745308046257</id><published>2009-02-08T12:57:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T14:23:18.140+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Death and Loss (part 2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Due to popular request, ginawa ko nang English ung Kamatayan at Kawalan. Hindi raw nila magets ung Filipino version. Hay... Kalungkot noh?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ten minutes to midnight. He listened to the electric fan whirring in the kitchen. His mother would be sitting on the chair farthest from the door, and the table would be set with some left-over dinner on a plastic plate nearest to the door. He remembered when the plate used to be ceramic. He remembered his mother's bloody hands picking up the broken ceramic shards from the floor.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He lay on his bed, listening to the clock go tick-tock, tick-tock. Five minutes to twelve, and he was ready. His duffel bag was packed with what few possessions they needed: a change of clothes for both of them, his cellphone, now with a different number, his school books, pens, scraps of paper, bills and coins. No remembrances. No pictures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He fingered the painkillers he had in his pocket. One minute to twelve, and he knew what to do. He closed his eyes. He was covered with bruises. His bones were split in two, some in five. His bloody teeth were strewn about the floor. He was at death's door. He filled his ears with the siren's wailing, the shifting of red to blue, red to blue. He was free. They were free.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The clock struck twelve, and the front door banged. He opened his eyes. Dogs from next door howled at the raucous man singing downstairs. He listened to the furniture topple down as his old man made his way to the kitchen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It was time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He felt his way down the staircase, duffel bag in hand. The shouting had begun. He knew the words so well he could have been a shadow in the kitchen, a witness to it all every night. Then again, maybe he already was. He put his duffel bag down on the lowest step.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He stood beside the kitchen doorway. He was a shadow. No. He was a spirit. He could enter and he would not be seen. He crept inside, keeping to the walls, and he was not seen. He saw the spit fly out of his father's mouth as he yelled obscenities at his mother cowering down in the corner. More than ten years of this and she still had tears to spare.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He waited. His father cursed, and he waited. His mother sniffled, and he waited. There was silence, absolute silence, and he waited. A near chair caught his father's eye, and he waited. He took the chair, raised it up, and he waited. His mother took a deep breath, and he waited. The heat left his father's eyes, cold murder taking its place, and his waiting was done.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;He rushed in front of his mother just as the chair slammed down. He heard his bones break, but right now, he felt no pain. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. He stood up to face the dumbstruck man, for once in his life taller than his father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"You've had enough." His whisper turned into a hiss. "We're leaving this hell."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;There was nothing more to be said. He took his shaking mother up in his arms, and walked out of the room. He picked up his bag and walked out of the house. He took a whiff of the dama de noche splayed about the garden. He would miss that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;A car was waiting for them at the end of the street. The ambulance vision had been unnecessary. He put his sniveling mother down on the backseat and got in front.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Drive."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;They backed down and drove away into the night. His friend asked no questions. He was relieved, since he could have given no answers. He was too busy looking up to the sky, counting the stars.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4438875745308046257?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4438875745308046257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4438875745308046257' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4438875745308046257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4438875745308046257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/02/death-and-loss-part-2.html' title='Death and Loss (part 2)'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1648144169437603980</id><published>2009-01-31T23:10:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T00:02:29.964+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 1)</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Muli niyang kinuha ang koleksyon ng kanilang mga pinagmulaang larawan. Hinaplos niya ang mga masasayang alaala gamit ng kanyang daliri. Tinitigan niya ang bawat detalye, umaasang maging sapat na ito upang bumalik siya sa ginintuang panahon na ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Naroon sila. Isang binata at isang dalaga. Magkahawak ang kamay. Tumatawa. Naririnig pa niya ang malambing na tinig ng kanyang irog habang sila'y naglalakad sa kung saan man sila dalhin ng kanilang mga walang pakialam na paa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May dumaan na kotse, at napakinang ng mga ilaw nito ang singsing na nasa kanyang daliri. Ang simbolo ng kanilang pagmamahalan. Narinig niya ang papalapit na kalampag ng mga paa ng kanilang anak. Ang produkto ng kanilang pagmamahalan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bakit tila napakabigat naman ng mga yapak ng kanyang anak? Nang ito'y makalapit pa ay narinig niya na rin ang paghingal nito, at ang pag-ikot ng mga gulong. Maya-maya'y lumitaw na ang bata, may hila-hilang bag sa dalawa nitong kamay.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Inay..." Halos mabiyak ang kanyang puso sa lungkot na umagos mula sa bulong ng kanyang anak. "'Nay. Umalis na tayo dito."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Natahimik ang ina. Pagkatapos siya'y napangiti, at pagkatapos siya'y nagtatatawa ng malakas. Nanlaki ang mga mata ng kanyang anak. "Umalis? Umalis! Hay, pilyang bata! Kung anu-anong kalokohan nanaman ang pinagsasasabi mo."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi makapaniwala ang kanyang anak sa kanyang narinig. Tinitigan niya ang kalansay na kanyang ina. Tinitigan niya ang mga pasa nito sa katawan, ang mga galos nito sa mukha, ang mga buto nitong nagkandabali-bali na. Tinitigan niya ang mga matang pinagmulan ng kanyang mga mata, at nakitang sila'y nakangiting kakaiba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pinanood niya ang paulit-ulit na paghimas ng kanyang ina sa mga litratong pinaglumaan na ng panahon. Wala na siyang matandaang araw kung saan hindi niya nakita ang gawain na ito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pagod na siya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sawang-sawa na siya sa pagluha ng kanyang ina, matapos nito makipag-away sa kanyang amang amoy alak. Ayaw na niyang makita pa ang paglipad ng mga kamao ng kanyang ama, lalo na't tanging manood lamang ang kaya niyang gawin. Sawa na siya sa kanyang kahinaan, sa kanyang kakulangan mg abilidad na ipagtanggol ang mahalaga sa kanya. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tigil na. Aalis na silang mag-ina, patungo sa isang lugar na walang mga amang amoy alak. Aalagaan niya ito, at makikita rin niya, pwede silang maging masayang silang dalawa lamang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngunit ayan nanaman ang daliri ng kanyang ina, paulit-ulit na hinihimas ang mga panahong hindi na kailanman maibabalik pa. Bakit ba siya umaasa pa? Matagal nang wala ang binatang minahal niya dati. Hindi pa ba niya alam yun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero nakita niya ang tahimik na dasal ng kanyang ina sa mga mata nito, at alam niyang kahit kailan ay hindi nito magagawang iwanan ang kanyang asawa. Marahil ay pati ang kanyang ina'y wala na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ngumiti siya. "Ang galing niyo talaga 'nay. Alam niyo kaagad na nagbibiro lang ako." Pagkatapos no'y tumakbo na siya papunta sa kanyang kwarto upang sumigaw sa unang nakabaon sa kanyang mukha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1648144169437603980?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1648144169437603980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1648144169437603980' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1648144169437603980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1648144169437603980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/kamatayan-at-kawalan-part-1.html' title='Kamatayan at Kawalan (part 1)'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4477213465549566149</id><published>2009-01-26T23:36:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T23:44:52.006+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corn Poppers</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, what if it’s a minute, or even up to more than an hour’s worth of pictures? A movie, to be exact.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Well then, if you’re going to spend the next scarce moment of your life stocking up your mind with these pixelated words, you might as well pick the good ones. Here’s the top ten films that I recommend to pass away those lazy days, and end up better in the process:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;    10)  &lt;b&gt;Finding Neverland&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Johnny Depp’s best movie as of yet. This story of how Peter Pan came to be is actually better than the fairytale itself. It tackles how fleeting moments of perfection are, the sad truth of how a child has to grow up, and how hard and how easy it is to find Neverland, all at the same time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    9)  &lt;b&gt;I am Sam&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; I cannot describe how moved I was by this film, by the unconditional and unwavering love that binds a father and a daughter together. This made me think about what it really means to be a father. As they say, it’s easier for a father to have a child, than for a child to have a father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    8) &lt;b&gt;300&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Stunningly unique cinematography, heart, uncensored gore, and to top it all of, a plot based on a true story. The depiction of ancient Sparta here is so vivid, you’d think you were one of the 300 men marching off to defend your homeland, for the price of your life. This... is... SPARTA!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    7) &lt;b&gt;Titanic&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; I can’t see why anyone wouldn’t love Titanic. It’s got the love story, the discrimination between social classes, the inner conflict between what is right and what is proper, and a hundred foot iceberg to boot. Just one suggestion: keep a box of tissue in your reach. Trust me; you’re going to need it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    6) &lt;b&gt;Patch Adams&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Being made by doctors, though never deliberating over it as a career, I have always been rather curious of medicine. See, I wanted to find out how moral medicine really is. Does not the saving of one life mean the doom of another? And if you look around at the shrinking rainforests, the shanty houses piled one on top of the other, and the silence left by animals that no longer exist in this earth, you’ll know what I mean. But this movie reminded me that while there are negative effects, there will always be a brighter side. It just depends on where you focus your gaze.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    5) &lt;b&gt;What Dreams May Come&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Sometimes I just play this movie and pause it anytime I feel like it. And always, the result is the same: scenes that just had to belong to the Louvre. After watching this, you’ll never think the same about the words “soul mates” ever again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    4) &lt;b&gt;Pride &amp;amp; Prejudice&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; I remember loving this film so much that I spent one whole week watching nothing but this in my first year at high school. The book is better than the movie, and I don’t really like the actor they chose for Mr. Darcey, but Keira Knightley, the cinematography, and the simple yet powerful soundtrack have outdone all my expectations. Truly a work of art, if you decide to ignore the leading man.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    3) &lt;b&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; It’s a good thing they didn’t call this Batman II, since this movie was all about the Joker. It’s ironic how the Joker here is in no way funny. Instead, he’s a manipulator, a man who wants nothing but to see the world burn. Or, in his own words, a mad dog chasing cars. Oh Heath Ledger, why did you have to die?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    2) &lt;b&gt;Millennium Actress&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; To be honest, I did not like this film the first time I watched it. I was too confused by the quick pacing and the flood of Japanese culture that I wasn’t as exposed to then as I am now. But after watching it for the second time, and then the third, and the fourth, I can now truthfully say that this has been a masterpiece of animation, that no live-action trick would have ever made possible. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;    1) &lt;b&gt;Atonement&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Oh, I’m at a loss for words. Beautiful, simply beautiful. The story had been surprising from the very beginning. It questioned the absolute trust we unconditionally give to children, showed how one little mistake can change everything, and how far one has to travel in search of redemption.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4477213465549566149?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4477213465549566149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4477213465549566149' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4477213465549566149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4477213465549566149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/they-say-picture-is-worth-thousand.html' title='Corn Poppers'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4766999615294231686</id><published>2009-01-25T12:31:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T12:58:03.037+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Swiper the Girl</title><content type='html'>1.)Anong song ang pinapatugtog mo ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; The Fray - All at Once&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.) Saan ka galing kanina?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; sa CR&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Sinong huli mong nakausap sa phone?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; ermm.... Si Mommy ata?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.) Sino iniisip mo ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; *cough* di pede sabihin eh :]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.) Happy ka ba ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Very, which is very odd.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.) Kamusta naman ang love life mo?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; About to happen pa lang. In other words, wala pa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.) Mabilis ka bang magsawa?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Medyo. Nagsasawa lang naman ako kapag bigla kong natatanong sa sarili ko kung sawa na ba ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.) Gusto mo bang makipag telebabad sa telephone?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Mas gusto ko kaysa text or Y!M, pero di talaga ako nakikipag-usap sa phone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.) Sinu kasama mo ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Kung sa bahay, edi si Kuya, Marie, Lolo, Lola, at Ate Beth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.) Pagod ka ba ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Nope. Medyo hyper nga ako eh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.) Saan ka pupunta ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Magsisimba. Sana rin matuloy na ang ilang beses nang naudlot na panonood ng The Curious Case of Benjamin Button sa sinehan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.) Umiyak ka ba kanina?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Nope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.) Mahilig ka ba sa surprises?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Depende sa surprise. Kung masaya, edi bring it on!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.) Anong gusto mong gawin ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Makasama siya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.) San mo gustong pumunta?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Sa sinehan para manood ng The Curious Case of Benjamin Button :[&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.) Umiinom ka ba ng mga alcoholic drinks?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; I love red wine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.) Anong mas gusto mo, makulit o pasaway?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Makulit na lang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.) eh malambing o mataray?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Mataray. Haha. Asa. Malambing, siyempre.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.) ano ang favorite drink mo?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Hmm... Water? Tsaka Minute Maid.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.) Adik ka ba sa siopao?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Hindi. Natrauma ako nung kumain ako ng siopao sa MaMonLuk (tama ba spelling?), tapos kamuntikan ko nang makain yung kahoy na nasa loob ng siopao.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21.) Anong feeling mo pag may kausap ka sa phone?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Edi masaya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.) Anong kanta ang nasa isip mo ngaung buong araw?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Wala eh...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.) Anong feeling mo ngayong oras na ‘to?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Naiinis. Umaasa. Masaya. Hindi ko rin talaga maintindihan :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.) Ano ang huling natanggap mong remembrance?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Yung mga bigay ng relatives ko during the Christmas break.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.) Anong ginagawa mo ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Nagtatype :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27.) Kumain ka na ba ng dinner?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Oo. Yung dinner kagabi :]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28.) Anong huli mong napanuod na movie?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Defiance.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29.bakit kaylangan masaktan pag nag mahal?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Para mong tinanong bakit kailangang maasim ang dalandan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30.) Anong iniisip mo ngayon?&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;i&gt;~&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;+&lt;/b&gt; Masarap magnakaw kay Frances :]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4766999615294231686?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4766999615294231686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4766999615294231686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4766999615294231686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4766999615294231686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/swiper-girl.html' title='Swiper the Girl'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5142239584346904798</id><published>2009-01-24T12:20:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T12:42:47.427+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Single... and Available?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mwahaha. Dateless once again. What a relief.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I broke the arrangement off on Friday, because it honestly just won't work. Masyado siyang nailang. Haha. Meh kasalanan rin naman ako, kasi I gave him a conditional answer. Pero meh kasalanan rin naman siya, kasi hindi niya ako binigyan ng time para mag-isip, at hindi siya naging honest sakin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So ayun. Dateless, and enemies with a friend who says he won't speak to me again until the end of the school year. I love my life :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Parang gusto ka na lang mag-stag sa Prom. Nakakatakot rin kasing magkadate. Ewan ba. Meron ata akong fear of intimacy. Tsaka kung stag ka, kahit sino pwede mong isayaw. At least, kahit sinong wala ring date o kaya may date na hindi papatay sayo kapag sinayaw mo ang date niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero, kunsakali mang may magtanong parin sakin (uy, nagpaparinig :)) ), baka i-accept ko rin. Depende lang naman talaga kung sino e. At sa paraan ng pagtanong. Hindi rin makakasama ang isang box ng Ferrero Rocher (except na lang kung yung box lang talaga ibigay sa akin)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ay. Sabi nga rin pala ni Daddy wala na raw bayad sa photography. Kaso nga lang, digital daw yung output (meaning ilalagay lang sa cds ung photos). Mas gusto ko nga yun e, para instant upload na sa blog kong 'to :)). Mwahaha. Atsaka pwede ko ring tingnan ang mga pictures "niya" in the privacy of my own computer. Stalker ako, mga tao &gt;:).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kahapon nag-shopping kami sa SM para sa suit ni kuya for his Prom. Grabe :)). Alam niyo bang bumili siya ng Tuxedo? And I mean Tuxedo. With a capital T. Oh well. Kami rin naman yung nagpilit sa kanya e. :)) Hollywood na rin lang naman ang theme nila eh. Might as well as abuse the options.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sino kaya date ni kuya? Hmm... Kawawa naman. AYUN and desperado. Haha. Joks joks lang kuya. Pogi ka naman e. Basta ba mag-shave ka ng iyong balbas na ala-rapist.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sige, paalam na mga 'tol. Pupunta pa akong dentist para magpa-adjust ng braces. Papalitan ng clear and colorless rubber things (sensya na. di ko alam kung ano tawag sa mga 'to e :P. silent type rin kasi ang tito kong dentist ko.) ung green na ginagamit ko ngayon. O yan ha! Pure na ako. *alleluia ~*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5142239584346904798?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5142239584346904798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5142239584346904798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5142239584346904798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5142239584346904798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/single-and-available.html' title='Single... and Available?'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6960051013677651584</id><published>2009-01-22T21:52:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T22:32:20.858+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oolala~</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Ninakaw ko mula sa blog ni Fuh-wances, dahil ayaw talaga pumasok sa utak ko ng pinag-aaralan ko dapat ngayon. Haha. Wala na talaga akong gana para sa AP. Si ano kasi e...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;b&gt;RULES:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;01&lt;/b&gt;. List the names that you are called by and name the people that call you by these names.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;&lt;b&gt;02&lt;/b&gt;. Tag 10 others to do the same thing and paste the link on their guestbooks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;1) &lt;i&gt;Ysabel&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; My given name, the one almost everyone calls me by.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;2) &lt;b&gt;Ysa&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Eto ang tawag sakin ng mga tamad na hindi na kayang sabihin yung third syllable ng pangalan ko :)). Joks lang 'to, mga rebapeeps (pero totoo rin namang maraming tamad sa inyo &gt;:) )&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;3) &lt;i&gt;Poipoi&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; My nickname when I was still in Grade 6. Dahil kasi sa Ragna. Ganito parin tawag sakin ni Rozelle.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;4) &lt;b&gt;Kissables&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Imbento ni Ben. Nakakatuwa yung pronunciation nito :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;5) &lt;i&gt;Angie&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Pangalan 'to ng ninang ko na mas kamukha ko pa kesa sa nanay ko. Dahil sa ulyanin na ang aking mahal na lola, ganito na ang tawag niya sakin. Hehe. Medyo masakit isipin, pero nakakalimutan na ata niya ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;6) &lt;b&gt;Ysa-bellie / Ysa-bellie-dudes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Tawag sakin ni Chot. Hindi rin naman siya mahilig sa mga mahahabang words.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;7) &lt;i&gt;Manyak / Pervert&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Sina Abe at sina Elaine. Green is clean, my friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;8) &lt;b&gt;Tae&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; HINDI AKO TAE!!! Pagsisisihan niyo rin 'to, Frances.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;9) &lt;i&gt;Epal&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Halos lahat naman ata natawag nang ganito e.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;10) &lt;b&gt;Bella&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; So Bella Swan daw ako e :)). Tawag nina Elaine kapag bigla na lang kaming nagkakapareho ng buhok ng napakaewan na leading lady ni Edward.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;11) &lt;i&gt;Ate&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Tawag ni Marie, tsaka ng iba pang mga first year at mga sumisipsip dahil walang pamasahe sa dyip.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;12) &lt;b&gt;Psst...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Para sa mga manyak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;13) &lt;i&gt;Miss&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Tawag sakin ng mga saleslady. Nagulat talaga ako nung unang beses ko 'tong narinig. Hehe. Woah. Miss na pala ako.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;14) &lt;b&gt;Flying Pig&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Oh my :)). Tawag ng mga pinsan ko dati sakin. Putakte :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;15) &lt;i&gt;Ka-balls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Ehem.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;16) &lt;b&gt;Tanga&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;--&gt; Tawag ko sa sarili ko tuwing kinakausap ko sarili ko :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;Gaya na lang rin ako :D. I tag anyone who wants to be tagged.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6960051013677651584?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6960051013677651584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6960051013677651584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6960051013677651584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6960051013677651584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/oolala.html' title='Oolala~'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1460657786113099782</id><published>2009-01-21T21:03:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T10:40:32.084+08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night of Nights is Nothing but a Nightmare</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;She could feel it in the air. The excitement. The desperation. Like the rhythmic beating of drums. War drums. Whispers.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Do you know that he asked her out?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"No way! What did she say?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"She said yes."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"God... I never knew."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;The Prom. It's still three weeks before the prom, and yet it's only three weeks before the prom.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;What the hell was wrong with everybody?, she couldn't help but think. As far as she knew (though she knew she knew hardly anything about these sort of things), prom should be fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Prom isn't about the dates. Prom's about the dancing and the laughing and your friends getting drunk on the punch and the late bedtime hour..... in short, fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oh, she had a date. Not really who she had been hoping for, but she was fine with it anyway. Except now things were a little awkward between them. Now she understood why friends usually remained friends.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And as for the dancing... She needed lessons. She NEEDED lessons. Or maybe just a little more self-esteem. Or heels that didn't stand out for a mile. Or maybe just his hand upon her waist, her head upon his shoulder...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Damn it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;It's finished, girl. He never would have asked you out in the first place. So stop the "what if"s and the "if only"s. You'll just end up with puffy, red eyes and an empty box of Kleenex again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1460657786113099782?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1460657786113099782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1460657786113099782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1460657786113099782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1460657786113099782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/night-of-nights-is-nothing-but.html' title='The Night of Nights is Nothing but a Nightmare'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6074443440291514907</id><published>2009-01-14T16:41:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T17:18:46.161+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Meme Post</title><content type='html'>Been tagged by &lt;a href="http://thekounoodoriko.blogspot.com/"&gt;Frances&lt;/a&gt; :D. Hindi ko pa feel mag-aral. Ang ibig sabihin nun, kahit magbasa ako ng notes o kaya ng book, wala pa ring papasok sa utak ko. Kaya gagawin ko muna 'to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;1.&lt;/b&gt; You have to post the rules before you give your answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;2.&lt;/b&gt; You must list one fact about yourself beginning with each letter of your middle name. (If you don't have a middle name, use your maiden name or your mother's maiden name).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;3.&lt;/b&gt; At the end of your blog post, you need to tag one person for each letter of your middle name. (Be sure to leave them a comment telling them they've been tagged.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sabi ni Fuh-wances second name ko raw gamitin ko.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y - is for... Yuna. Grabe... I miss my Final Fantasy games :(. Hinding-hindi na ako bibili ng pirated na game, kasi napakadali nilang maluma. Pero don't worry. This doesn't apply to pirated movies :D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;S - is for... sorry. Hindi ko alam bakit. Lately, I've picked up the habit of saying "Sorry!" or "Gomene..." out of nowhere. Hehe. Ganun na siguro karami ang mga kasalanan ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A - is for... ambisyoso. Actually, I prefer the term optimistic. Pero dahil A naman ang hinihingi at hindi O, I was left with no choice. Marami akong inaasahan sa buhay. Naniniwala akong balang-araw, makakamit ko rin sila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B - is for... braces. I love my braces, and I hate them at the same time. Love kasi sila ang nagsilbing trigger ng aking slimming process, and I hate them kasi mukha akong ewan sa mga pictures. Ayon nga kay Elaine, "Yack! May metal ka sa ngipin!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;E - is for... Ewan ko sayo. One of my most frequently used expressions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;L - is for... &lt;s&gt;love&lt;/s&gt; loco. What I've been for the past few years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. Ang hirap nun ah :)).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've utilized (yess. research ito.) 6 letters, so I tag: &lt;a href="http://orangealcohol.multiply.com/"&gt;Aly&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://okramarkokram.multiply.com/"&gt;Marko&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://thekounoodoriko.blogspot.com/"&gt;Frances&lt;/a&gt; (Kanya-kanyang trip 'to. Walang basagan.), &lt;a href="http://xxyukihotaruxx.multiply.com/"&gt;Lizbeth&lt;/a&gt;, hmmm... sino pa ba nagblublug? Ah! &lt;a href="http://beebeebaby.multiply.com/"&gt;Denise&lt;/a&gt;, and... &lt;a href="http://www.ognitajoan.multiply.com/"&gt;Joan&lt;/a&gt;. Hwoo! Ang hirap pala ng hindi multiply.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6074443440291514907?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6074443440291514907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6074443440291514907' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6074443440291514907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6074443440291514907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/meme-post.html' title='Meme Post'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2685584324348061772</id><published>2009-01-11T13:52:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T15:12:40.660+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ragnarok Forever</title><content type='html'>Naaalala ko pa ang pinakaunang beses kong magbukas ng pRO. Hindi pa ako marunong mag-internet nito, at para sakin, ang tanging gamit ng computer ay GAMES. Medyo totoo pa itong definition na 'to hanggang ngayon, dahil puro laro lang naman ginagawa ko sa computer, pero ngayon nanonood na rin ako, at paminsan, kapag ginanahan o kaya'y talagang kinailangan, gumagawa ng schoolwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kung nakapaglaro na kayo ng ragna, alam niyong ang unang lalabas ay ang log-in interface. Well, dahil nga sa mangmang pa talaga ako nun, hindi ko maintindihan kung ano itong username at password na hinihingi dito. Bakit ba may ganitong program sa computer in the first place? (Ininstall pala ni kuya. Natutunan niya sa mga classmates niya.) Kung anu-ano pinaglalalagay ko dun sa blanks. Hindi ko pa kasi alam na kelangan pa palang mag-register. (Haha. Uber sa katangahan.) Akala ko kasi offline game siya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nang hindi parin ako makapasok after 1 hour (yes, natuwa siya :)) ), nagsawa na rin ako at umalis na muna sa comp at nanood na lang ng TV. Ang nakakatuwa dito, pagkabukas na pagkabukas ko ng TV, ang palabas ay tungkol sa ragna :)). Edi napikon pa ako pati sa TV. Tumunganga na lang ako sa kalangitan at hinintay ang pasalubong kong chickenjoy ng Jollibee (Wala akong pakialam kung gano karaming cholesterol at trans fat ang nasa loob nitong chickenjoy, basta masarap siya. Pinaka- ika nga ng kanilang commercials.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagulat na lang ako nang makita ko si kuyang naglalaro ng ragna maya-maya. Edi siyempre ininterrogate ko siya, pero nainis rin siya sakin kasi nga bago pa lang rin naman siya sa ragna, kaya kelangan pa niyang magconcentrate ng todo. Ilang beses ata siyang nadedz dahil sakin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinampot ko nalang ung prepaid card na nakapatong sa computer desk. Meh nakasulat na go to http://ragnarokonline.levelupgames.ph for further information dun. Edi siyempre punta ako kay daddy dear para tanungin kung ano 'tong link na 'to. (Andami kong inabala para lang makapaglaro ng ragna. Talaga.) Edi siyempre, turo so daddy dear kung pano mag-internet, at eto naman akong nakatunganga at na-aamaze. Ooooh! Eto pala ung internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maya-maya iniwan na rin ako ni da habang ako'y naghahalungkat na dun sa site. Sinabi na sakin ni kuya na kelangan kong magregister para makapaglaro. Masarap pa maging new player nun, 30 days free :(. (Bakit ba 5 hours na lang ngayon?) Pero bago makapagregister, kelangan pa pala munang magka-e mail ka. Edi tawag uli ako kay daddy dear. Daddy, what is this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Punta kami sa site ng yahoo. Yan, magregister ka para magkaemail ka. Nag-iisip ako nun, bakit ba ang daming registration dito sa internet na 'to? Pero ginawa ko rin naman, at maya-maya tapos na rin akong mag-register sa ragna. Yey! Makakapaglaro na ako!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero hindi pa pala. Nakalimutan ko ang pinakamalaking balakid sa aking kasiyahan: ang aking ngayo'y adik na sa ragnang kuya. Isang buong araw ko ata siya kinulit bago niya ako payagang maglaro na. Saint Raphael talaga. (Asa.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, naglalaro na ako. At eto lang ang masasabi ko sa inyo: isa siguro ito sa mga pinakamasasayang parte ng buhay ko. Bakit?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko sure kung anong grade ako nito. Grade 3 ba, o grade 4? In any case, hindi ko pa alam talaga kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng barkada, o mga kaibigan in general. (See "The Individualist") Sa larong ito ko unang naramdaman na, I belong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dito ako unang nagkaroon ng kaibigan talaga (Si oxxxxx). Naaalala niyo pa ba nung unang beses kayong nagkaroon ng kaibigang hindi niyo kadugo? Ang saya diba? Eto yung mga panahong hindi mo kailanman ipagpapalit para sa kahit na ano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami rin akong natutunan nung panahong ito. Natutunan kong gumalang ng iba, at natutunan kong magmura. Natutunan kong lumaban, mag-cast, mag-heal, at magpakamatay para sa iba. Marami akong naging kaibigan at pati na rin mga nakaaway. Natutunan ko ang ibig sabihin ng lol, rofl, lag, warp, wth?!, atbp. Natutunan ko ang Art of Pambabara. Nagkaroon ako ng aking first pet (I love you my Poring :3). Nagkaroon ako ng trabaho. Nakapasok ako sa isang shipwreck, at sa mga gubat na puno ng mga halimaw (kung san ako rin ay namatay). Nakasali ako sa isang party. Natutunan kong magpuyat. At maraming-marami pang iba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minahal ko 'tong larong ito. Hindi ko alam kung nakabuti o nakasama sa akin itong pagmamahal na ito. At, to be honest, wala rin talaga akong pakialam. Basta patuloy akong naglelevel-up at yumayaman, hindi lamang sa pera kundi pati na rin sa mga kaibigan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isipin niyo na lang ang lungkot ko nang biglang magkaroon ng virus ang computer namin. Hindi ako makapaginternet. Hindi ako makapag-log-in. Hindi ako makapaglaro. Ang munti kong puso'y bumiyak. Ang lahat ng aking pinangarap, ang lahat ng aking pinaghirapan, naglaho ng ganun-ganun lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exagerrated ba ang dating? Hindi niyo siguro maintindahan. Mga mambabasa, dito lang po ako nagkaroon ng mga kaibigan. Mga mambabasa, dito lang po uli ako lumigaya pagkatapos ng kay tagal-tagal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dito siguro nagsimula ang depression ko. Andami kong ginawang paraan para lang maibalik ang ragna sa comp, pero kahit anong gawin ko, ayaw. Ayaw rin akong payagang lumabas ng bahay para maglaro sa comp shop. Hay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami akong ibang sinubukang MMORPG na pamalit sa ragna, pero kahit anong gawin ko, hindi talaga kailanman mapapalitan ang lahat ng aking mga naranasan. At dito nagtatapos ang aking paghahanap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2685584324348061772?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2685584324348061772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2685584324348061772' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2685584324348061772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2685584324348061772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/ragnarok-forever.html' title='Ragnarok Forever'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-4413201205610687745</id><published>2009-01-10T22:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T22:56:50.045+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scientia Et Virtus</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nakuha ko sa blog ni &lt;a href="http://xanga.com/my_own_drama19"&gt;Ate Ances&lt;/a&gt; (sino ba 'to? :))) Isang beses kasi, nung buhay pa ang xanga profile ko, nagsearch ako ng mga ka-school ko. Tsaran! Nahanap ko si Ate Ances, at nagsubscribe ako sa site niya. Meh iba pa akong nahanap, pero si Ate Ances lang ung regular na nagpopost, kaya siya lang naaalala ko. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, para nga pala dun sa second installment nung aking First Post of the Year!!, hindi ko na yun itutuloy (Juan Tamad strikes again ;]). Hehe. Pasensya na kung inaabangan niyo yun. Hindi ko na kasi talaga kakayanin. Meron rin naman kasing mga pics e, kaya dun ko na lang aalalahanin ang mga masasayang alaala ng aking bakasyon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Noong First year:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nalalakihan ka pa sa school mo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Takot ka pa sa mga higher years.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilala mo lahat ng kabatch mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Wala ka pang kina-cut na klase.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Namimiss mo pa ang mga Grade 6 classmates mo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nag-Stargazing ka pero wala kayong nakitang stars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mabait ka pa sa mga teachers mo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kilala mo si Sir Almen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;GC ka pa.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nangopya ka na.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Di ka pa marunong mangopya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Umiyak ka nung bumagsak ka sa Math.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagkaroon ka ng “See me ASAP” sa quiz booklet mo kay Mam Fernandez (Sir Chua kami nun e)&lt;br /&gt;Naging campus heartthrob ka (haha. sa panaginip :P)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nagkaroon ka na ng first crush sa school&lt;/b&gt; Xl&lt;br /&gt;Cool pa ang corny jokes (ngayong 3rd year lang ako naging corny. Frances kasi e. tsk tsk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Takot ka pa ma-late sa subjects mo.&lt;/b&gt; (hanggang ngayon. lalo na pag-English)&lt;br /&gt;Uwi mo pa lahat-lahat ng libro mo araw-araw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nagkaroon ka na ng group of friends.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loner ka pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Napa-whoa ka sa To Kill A Mockingbird.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nakitambay ka pa sa mga dati mong kaklase noong Grade 6 ka.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumunta ka nung Freshie’s Night. (meh ganito ba? :)))&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Second year:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumaas section mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bumaba section mo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ganun pa rin section mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sawa ka nang magsulat ng mga journal.&lt;/b&gt; (hindi ko kaya mag-daily journal. never ever.)&lt;br /&gt;Nagtetext ka pag Bio time.&lt;br /&gt;Nalimutan niyong magdala ng frog para sa Bio.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Hindi kayo nag dissect ng frog.&lt;/b&gt; :[&lt;br /&gt;Nag-dissect kayo ng frog.&lt;br /&gt;Nakakatulog ka sa Comp Lab pag naglelecture ang teacher niyo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Natuwa ka sa mga interaction.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumunta ka ng Soph Night (huwah? when was this??)&lt;br /&gt;Nainis ka dahil nawala mo ang bagong-bago na Bio book.&lt;br /&gt;Kumpleto notes mo sa Bio.&lt;br /&gt;Kumpleto notes mo sa lahat ng subjects.&lt;br /&gt;Napatayo ka na sa Geom dahil wala kang HW.&lt;br /&gt;Nagkadevelopan kayo ng seatmate mo. (:)) si Chot seatmate ko nun :)))&lt;br /&gt;Nagkaroon ka ng kaaway sa higher batch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nagkaron ka ng friends sa lower batch.&lt;/b&gt; (pero hindi ko na siya maalala masyado ngayon. haha. kelangan ko na talaga mag-memo plus gold.)&lt;br /&gt;Masaya ka dahil may mabubully ka ng lower year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fave Subject mo ang MAPEH ni Mam Dela Paz.&lt;/b&gt; (WHOOO!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Third year:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tumaas section mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Bumaba section mo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ganun pa din section mo.&lt;br /&gt;dalagang-galaga/binatang-binata ka na. (mangyayari lang 'to kapag 20 something na ako. hehe.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Malungkot ka kasi ang tagal ng dismissal time mo.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masaya ka kasi ang ganda ng dismissal time mo.&lt;br /&gt;Umiyak ka dahil sa napakahirap na test niyo sa Physics.&lt;br /&gt;Nag-prom ka sa high school grounds (wala pa, pero Wakwak ang venue)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Naki-uso ka maglaro ng Rubik’s cube.&lt;/b&gt; (hindi ko siya nasosolve hangga't wala akong kodigo na nakuha ko sa net :)))&lt;br /&gt;Tinawanan mo ang Physics book na makapal kasi hindi naman masyadong ginamit.&lt;br /&gt;Nagpagawa ka ng Math Project nyo na problem set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Natuto ka ng umuwi ng late dahil sa mga school projects.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Dinugo ka sa Research.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinugo ka sa Physics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nahirapan ka maghanap ng research topic.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nangopya ka ng research topic ng mga higher years na graduate na.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kilala mo si Gretaz Futol.&lt;/b&gt; &gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;AP Time = vacant time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nagkaroon ka ng madaming friends &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Excited ka bago mag Prom.&lt;/b&gt; (alam niyo bang may damit na ako? XD)&lt;br /&gt;Maangas ka sa mga lower batches, lalo na pag wala ang fourth year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fourth year:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*hindi pa naman ako fourth year e, kaya hindi ko muna 'to sasagutan.*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kumuha ka ng review classes para sa entrance exams, hindi para mag-review, kun'di para maka-kilala ng mga tao at para makapaglakwatsa after.&lt;br /&gt;Nag-alala ka sa magiging resulta ng UPCAT/ACET/(school na gusto mo)&lt;br /&gt;Natuwa ka sa Catcher In The Rye.&lt;br /&gt;Naging expression mo ang ALAL&lt;br /&gt;Alam mo yung Alam na!&lt;br /&gt;Excited ka sa last Prom at Grad ball mo.. &lt;br /&gt;Nagsulat ka ng kanta na pagka-keso-keso.&lt;br /&gt;Naadik kay sa Twilight.&lt;br /&gt;Napamahal ka sa mga kaklase mo.&lt;br /&gt;Binisita mo ang mga bahay ng mga kaklase mo para sa project.&lt;br /&gt;Nanghihiram ka na lang ng research paper ng ibang group dahil tinatamad ka na gumawa ng iyo.&lt;br /&gt;Binaboy mo ang huling Filipino exam dahil 'yun na ang pinaka-huling exam mo sa high school.&lt;br /&gt;Nag-exit interview ka.&lt;br /&gt;Nagwawala kayo noong last day of classes.&lt;br /&gt;Namroroblema ka kung anong school ka magcocollege.&lt;br /&gt;Nagkagusto ka sa kabatch mo.&lt;br /&gt;Nagkagusto ka sa lower batch.&lt;br /&gt;Nagkaroon ka ng kaaway sa lower years.&lt;br /&gt;Nagkaroon ka ng maraming friends sa lower years.&lt;br /&gt;Natutuwa ka kasi ikaw na ang ate/kuya sa school mo.&lt;br /&gt;Nalulungkot ka dahil mamimiss mo ang mga school friends mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Over-all:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alam mo ang Scientia Et Virtus&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Naglalaro kayo ng card games sa mga classroom.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May mga planner nga na binibigay ang school pero hindi mo ginagamit.&lt;br /&gt;Alam mo tuwing P.E. na dapat kang mag-"Enjoy life."&lt;br /&gt;Nagtapon ka na ng clay sa ceiling.&lt;br /&gt;Mas gusto mong mag-banyo sa cr na malapit sa room ng mga third year nung 4th yr ka. (hindi pa ako fourth year, pero mas gusto ko cr namin ngayon. meh flush kasi e.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mahilig kang mag-vandalize ng mga table sa Chem Lab.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alam mo ang mga kuwento tungkol kay Lucia. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Galit ka sa Cueshe.&lt;/b&gt; (inis lang naman, pero aun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nalilito ka sa lyrics ng “Lungsod Quezon”.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nakatae ka na sa school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;masarap ang mga rice with ulam in a bowl&lt;/b&gt; (SINIGANG!!!!)&lt;br /&gt;Nagkaron ka ng bf/gf sa school mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nalilito ka kung chits/chips ang tawad sa pera ng kisay&lt;/b&gt; (basta chits ang tawag ko dun.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;alam mo ang WANGBU.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nakikishare ka ng inumin kung kanikanino lang...at pati pagkain (*cough* sino kaya yung mga 'to?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagpapalibre ka&lt;/b&gt; (during my rare moments of generosity)&lt;br /&gt;humihingi ka ng mga piso o mag barya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;humihingi ka ng papel sa seatmate mo&lt;/b&gt; (hi luiz :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nakapagbigay ka na ng papel sa seatmate mo&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;isang linggo ka nang walang papel&lt;/b&gt; (more than)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;isang linggo na walang papel seatmate mo&lt;/b&gt; (hi arjan :D)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nag lecture na kayo nang brown out&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nahuli ka na nag OTB. (ano 'to?)&lt;br /&gt;umikot ka na ng malaking ikot para lang iwasan si Mam Awitan pag inspection ng haircut (haha. ansarap pala maging babae.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;naka kopya ka na ng homework&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagpakopya ka na ng homework&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nanduktor ka na ng papel&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nangodigo ka&lt;br /&gt;sinulatan mo ang calculator mo ng formula/ formulas&lt;br /&gt;sinulatan mo ang desk mo ng formula&lt;br /&gt;sinulatan mo ang pader ng formula&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;present ka nung nagkabagyo at 30 minutes before dismissal bago nasuspend ang klase&lt;/b&gt; (inis na inis ako nito!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;inabangan mo ang iba pang weeks na half day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;alam mo ang free day&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;memorized mo ang holidays ng saints&lt;br /&gt;memorized mo ang iba pang holidays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagtetext ka sa klase&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;may tumunog na na phone sa klase&lt;/b&gt; (sakin :P)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;kung 4th year ka o madalas ka ma late, alam mo na studyante ang nagtataas ng Flag&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;na WEH ka na&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagcharge ka na sa classroom ng phone or ipod.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nakapag classnight ka na (gusto ko!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagtanong ka na sa YM o txt kung ano ang HW.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;natanong ka na kung ano ang HW, at ikaw rin mismo ay di mo alam&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;nagtanong ka ng homework, at nang malaman mong madali, di mo rin ginawa at nag cram ka nalang kinabukasan sa school&lt;/b&gt; (hehe. sa algeb kadalasan.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;bahay mo na ang classroom &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nahuli ka ni Tatamadz dahil wala kang ID&lt;br /&gt;hindi mo kinakanta ang Lupang Hinirang.&lt;br /&gt;naiinis ka dahil ngayon lang ulit nagka SM ANNEX nung ggraduate ka na (3rd year palang naman ako e.)&lt;br /&gt;umabsent ka dahil tinamad ka lang&lt;br /&gt;natulog ka habang sinasagot ang NCAE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;pumupunta ka sa school kahit sabado&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;madalas meeting place ay ang McDo Carpark&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nagcut ka ng last subject para makauwi agad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;humingi ka ng papel sa katabi mo kahit sinabi ng guro na bawal&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;memorize mo ang QCSHS Hymn &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;kilala mo ang asong si Bogart &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hindi kumpleto ang mga libro mo kapag returning of textbooks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nalungkot ka kasi walang Fair nung Foundation Week.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakatulog ka na sa covered court dahil kay Tatamadz. &lt;br /&gt;Kilala mo si Lungkot lunkgkot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Landmark sa iyo ang "SM North" &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nandaya ka na sa mga running excersises ng PE.&lt;/b&gt; (minus 1 lap :P )&lt;br /&gt;Nakapagpa-page ka na sa faculty&lt;br /&gt;Bahagi na ng iyong buhay ang malate at pauwiin ng guard&lt;br /&gt;Nagiging athlete ka tuwing Intrams (Ha. As if meh aptitute ako sa sports e. :)) )&lt;br /&gt;Nakakakita ka ng maraming artista sa Tri Noma&lt;br /&gt;Sumasakit ang balakang mo sa Fun Run&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kinakareer ng bawat klase ang Carolfest.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagpapagalingan ang mga klase sa paramihan ng kurtina.&lt;br /&gt;Nabighani ka kahit minsan sa chem. teacher mo. &gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Masarap masaksihan ang mga away ng mga lalake sa batch niyo.&lt;/b&gt; (lalo na pag involved si vivo. hehe.)&lt;br /&gt;Nagseservice/school bus ka pa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nalulungkot ka dahil walang fieldtrip &lt;/b&gt;(wala last year :( )&lt;br /&gt;Dinugo ka sa hirap ng mga Math Achievement tests.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ang Filipino Department ang pinaka-astig&lt;/b&gt; (astig si Ma'am Quinto!)&lt;br /&gt;Dinugo ka sa Florante at Laura, pati na rin sa Noli at El Fili&lt;br /&gt;Sa Bigkasan ka lang pumapasa sa Filipino&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alam mong maraming pagkain tuwing Christmas Party&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Malaki ang field ng QCSHS (para sa mga langgam)&lt;br /&gt;Napikon ka na minsan sa Trigo teacher mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kilala mo si Gabo &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pumupunta kang library dahil sa Values teacher mo&lt;br /&gt;Nakakatulog ka tuwing Econ time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Gumagawa ka ng homework sa umaga o kaya sa 5-minute break&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pinapangarap mong pumasa sa Physics.&lt;br /&gt;Nakapagtanim ka na ng puno para sa bio.&lt;br /&gt;Nakapaglaro ka na ng DOTA (Warcraft, oo.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alam mo ang GG&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalo ka na ng bading sa DOTA &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Apat lang ang gusto mong pasukan sa Pilipinas: UP, Ateneo, La Salle, o UST&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second choice mo kadalasan ang UP kahit na mas mahirap makapasok dito&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Alam mo kung kailan dapat gamitin ang rito at dito at ang ng at nang&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pinagtitinginan ka ng mga tao sa ibang lugar dahil sa kakaiba mong blue-checkered na skirt.&lt;/b&gt; ("Iha, bakit ka may suot na tablecloth?" :)) )&lt;br /&gt;Utang na loob mo sa classmate mo na marunong ka nang uminom at magyosi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Masaya ka tuwing walang klase.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-4413201205610687745?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/4413201205610687745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=4413201205610687745' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4413201205610687745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/4413201205610687745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/scientia-et-virtus.html' title='Scientia Et Virtus'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-1584754037884740523</id><published>2009-01-03T22:23:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T23:17:04.854+08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Post of the Year!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Plano ko sanang magsulat ng collective post tungkol sa aking Christmas Vacation pero... Wah. Masyadong maraming nangyari! Hay... Tinatamad na ako. Haha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Opps.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ito maaari. New Year na! Dapat may determinasyon ngayong 2009.  Let's start the year right! At gusto ko ring mapreserve ang lahat ng nangyari ngayong break.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Para madali, sisimulan ko na lang sa December 25 mismo. So. Christmas. Ermm... Ayun. haha. Masarap Noche Buena namin. Nandito na lahat ng mga first-degree relatives ko sa Caballes side, except kina Tito Butch. Medyo cold pa ang atmosphere dito dahil nga sa aking cursed anti-sociability, at dahil sa... ermm... tanungin niyo na lang sakin kung ano 'to, kung gusto niyong malaman. Pasensyahan na rin kung hindi ko sabihin. Ano rin kasi e...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Meron kami ritong exchange gifts. Wah! Ansaya nun. Tapos pwede kang mag-steal ng gift ng iba, kung ayaw mo dun sa nakuha mo. Buti na lang at once lang pwedeng gamitin, kundi lahat na siguro ng regalo namin mapupunta kina Miguel at Mireya :)).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hmmm... Wala na akong maalalang iba pang nangyari nung December 25, so on to the 26th! Plano naming pumunta sa Laiya with our relatives from the De la Cruz side, at dahil nasa dulo pa ata siya ng Batangas, maaga kaming umalis ng bahay. (Which means medyo late na in real time)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Birthday nga pala ni Daddy nung December 26. Nakasakay na kaming lahat sa kotse nung naalala ko. Ganito yung nangyari:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Moi&lt;/b&gt;: Today is... Ano nga ba? December 26? *moment of shock*      ~recovering       Happy Birthday Daddy!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kuya&lt;/b&gt;: *nashock rin siya* Onga noh! Happy Birthday!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Maria&lt;/b&gt;: Ayyy! Happy Birthday! Kahapon pa naman sabi ako ng sabi sa sarili ko na Birthday ni Daddy bukas.... Birthday ni Daddy bukas... Nakalimutan ko rin! :(&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kuya&lt;/b&gt;: Kaya pala...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mommy&lt;/b&gt;: Kaya pala ano? (Binati na niya siguro si Daddy bago nito)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kuya&lt;/b&gt;: Kaya pala parang naiinis si Daddy ngayon.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daddy&lt;/b&gt;: Ha?!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Kuya&lt;/b&gt;: Oo kaya!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Daddy&lt;/b&gt;: Anong naiinis? I'm just my usual self.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Mommy&lt;/b&gt;: Ang sabihin naturally pikon ka?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;......you get the picture. :))&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Anyway, nakarating kami sa Petron ng SLEX at about... 10 na ba nun? Plano kasi naming dito magkita-kita, para sabay kaming pupuntang Laiya. Si Daddy lang kasi may kabisado nung ruta.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang usapan, magkikita-kita sa Petron ng 9:30. Guess what? Dumating sila ng.... *drumroll* ....... 11:30! :(( Grabe. Buti na lang at may fishballs dun, kaya naretain ko parin ang aking good mood. Haha. Kaya wag na kayong magtataka kung bakit laging napakalate kong sumisipot sa mga usapan. It's all in the genes, pare.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At hindi lang yun! Edi diba magkikita-kita lang dapat kami, magbabathroom break, tapos dederetso na ng Laiya? Pero hindi! Nagsitambayan pa sila sa labas ng Treats habang pasakay na kami ng kotse. Nagulat na lang sila, Ay! San na sina Alvin? Haha. Nababasa kaya nila ito? *cough* Hindi rin naman ako malakas magparinig. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Gustong-gusto kong dumadaan ng SLEX. Dati. Ngayon kasi ang dami-daming undergoing constructions sa kalsadang yun eh. Hindi na tuloy siya ang aking third favorite road. Hay...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Papuntang Laiya, dumaan kami ng Star Tollway. ITO ang aking no. 1 favorite road. Dahil napakaganda niya. Uwaa... Nagkastiff neck ata ako sa kakasilip sa labas ng bintana. Hay...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nagkakandalabo-labo na kami nito, dahil nga nauna kami. Mukhang nakasabay sila sa rush traffic, kaya antagal tagal nanaman nila! Or baka nagtagal lang sila sa Petron ;). Mga 1:30 na nun, at hindi pa kami naglulunch. Naghahanap kasi kami ng makakainan na hindi lomihan at mukhang matino. Gusto nina Mommy ng Bulalohan, pero hindi ko yun feel (pano ba naman ako makakasipsip ng bulalo kung meh braces ako??), kaya nagkakainisan narin kami sa kotse. Pero finally! May nahanap rin kaming restaurant. Cafeño yung pangalan niya. Ang cute niya! Tambayan ata siya ng mga interns na nasa rotation dun sa area na yun, kasi meron silang corkboard dun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kumain ako ng Adobo Flakes, dahil medyo suspicious ako dun sa pangalan ng iba pang items on the menu. Pinagsisihan ko rin to nung nakita ko yung pagkain ni Mommy. Hindi naman sa pangit yung lasa nung pagkain ko. Pero... Yun pala un! Aroz ala Cubana! Isa sa mga paborito ko!!!!!! :((&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ah teka. Hindi ko na kaya. Antok na ko :)) Abangan niyo na lang ang second installment nito! Bukas ko siguro ipagpapatuloy. Goodnight guys. :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-1584754037884740523?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/1584754037884740523/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=1584754037884740523' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1584754037884740523'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/1584754037884740523'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2009/01/first-post-of-year.html' title='First Post of the Year!!!'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6921989879209835594</id><published>2008-12-24T14:00:00.000+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T14:01:26.600+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mushishi</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/QfHF71k9dzw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/QfHF71k9dzw&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1&amp;rel=0&amp;color1=0x5d1719&amp;color2=0xcd311b" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="265"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn. If only I could see Mushi...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6921989879209835594?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6921989879209835594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6921989879209835594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6921989879209835594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6921989879209835594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/mushishi.html' title='Mushishi'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8288956188505500022</id><published>2008-12-24T12:23:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T13:29:12.039+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Felipenas</title><content type='html'>Ano nga uli itsura ng gabi na punong-puno ng liwanag ng mga bituin? Hindi na niya maalala. Baka hindi pa niya nakikita.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinig niya ang kalampag ng kutsara't tinidor mula sa baba, ang kuwentuhan at tawanan ng mga kamag-anak na ngayon lang niya nakita. At nandito siya, sa harap ng kompyuter, nagsusulat nanaman. Mag-isa. Hindi siya naiinggit sa kanilang kasiyahan, sabi niya sa kanyang sarili. Hinding-hindi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bakit ba siya takot na bumaba at harapin sila? Pare-pareho lang naman ang mga itatanong nila. Ilang taon ka na? (15 po.) Saang school ka nag-aaral? (QueSci po. Quezon City Science High School.) Abaa. Scholar pala ito. Mahirap ba sa school mo? (Opo. [obvious ba?]) Anong year ka na ba? (3rd year po.) Etc... Etc...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pero ayaw parin niyang bumaba. Dahil ba sa mga pinsan niya? Sa kanyang mga kadugong pinalaki sa ibang bansa? Sila na mga anak ng Pilipinas ngunit ipinilit (ipinatalsik?) sa Amerika? Bakit ba siya naiinis sa kanila? Kasalanan ba nilang hindi nila mahal itong bansang 'to? Kasalanan ba nilang ni wika nito ay hindi nila alam? Oo, ang sagot ng kanyang guni-guni. Kasalanan nila yung huli.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At nahihirapan na siya sa pagsasalita sa wikang Ingles. Isang wikang banyaga sa kanyang dila, mga salitang hindi sa kanya. Mga salitang natanggap na niyang kahit pa kaya niyang isulat, ay hindi niya kailanman mabibigyan ng buhay. At mas gusto na niya ang mga sulatin niya ngayon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marahil yun ang dahilan. Itong pagmamahal niya sa bansa niya. Kaya hindi na nagkasya pa ang pagmamahal para sa kanyang mga kamag-anak. Tao lang naman siya eh. Hindi naman ganun kalaki ang puso niya para mahalin ang lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit pa ito'y gustuhin niya.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8288956188505500022?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8288956188505500022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8288956188505500022' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8288956188505500022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8288956188505500022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/felipenas.html' title='Felipenas'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2870421517936043781</id><published>2008-12-21T23:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T00:21:15.779+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pagpupuyat</title><content type='html'>Isa nanamang post sa kalagitnaan ng umaga at gabi. Bakit ba hindi na ako nakakatulog ng maaga? Para bang may complex na akong magpuyat. Wala naman akong napapala dito kundi katakot takot na eye bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, una sa lahat, mas mabilis ang internet pagsapit ng mga ganitong oras. Mas mabilis ang pagload ng mga pinapanood kong anime (currently it's Mushishi), at mga nilalaro kong online games na pampalipas oras habang hinihintay kong magload ang ala pagong na Veoh player. Naubos na kasi ang time quota ko sa MegaVideo. Haha. Hindi rin naman ako naadik sa Mushishi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mag-eendorse lang ako ng sandali. If you want more than a taste of the truly beautiful, watch Mushishi. Hindi ko madescribe kung gano kaganda itong anime na 'to. Just that it's one of the best I've ever seen. Sorry. Napakalabo ata nito :)). If you want to watch the series anyway, click &lt;a href="http://www.instantz.net/anime/Mushishi.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Balik tayo sa topic. Ang pangalawang dahilan... siguro gusto ko lang itong naiiwan akong gising. Yung katahimikan ng natutulog na mundo. Pagkatapos umawit ng mga ibon, at pagkapatay sa mga ilaw na nakasindi. Nakakatakot, oo. Paboritong panahon rin kasi ata ito ng mga ipis. Nakakailang rin, lalo na ngayong malamig. Iniiwan kong nakasara ang bintilador. Kaya tuwing merong iihip na malamig na hangin mula sa bintana, bigla na lang tataas ang balahibo ko. Mga aswang, mananangal, kapre.... lahat sila naaalala ko. O diba? Masaya dito. May thrill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pangatlo... Oo. May isa pa. Mga ganitong oras kasi gumagana ang utak ko. Hindi naman ako Frankenstein na namamatayan ng utak, pero alam mo yun? Ngayon ako inspired. Ngayon ako nakakaisip ng mga kakaibang bagay, na kinagugulat ko nalang. Akalain ba namang may mahihinuhang maganda mula sa kokote ko? Ngayon kumakati ang mga daliri ko, kumikiliti ang guni-guni ko. Ngayon ako nangangarap ng gising, at walang nangingistorbo sa aking mga panaginip. Wala nanay diyan na sasaway. Walang mga batas na hahadlang. Tanging mga panaginip lamang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At sa wakas, inantok na rin ako.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2870421517936043781?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2870421517936043781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2870421517936043781' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2870421517936043781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2870421517936043781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/pagpupuyat.html' title='Pagpupuyat'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-5123609926762179297</id><published>2008-12-16T21:39:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T22:03:50.074+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kunwari Responsable</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Andami kong kelangang gawin. Meh Carol Fest bukas. Sana magkaplace kami! Medyo hindi na ako nangangarap na makapagfirst dahil sa Bec, pero win or lose, Darwin III, we'll surely be able to redeem ourselves. (alalahanin niyo yung ating forgettable Linggo ng Wika presentation.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay... Isang linggo lang ata kami nagpractice. Tama ba? Let's see... Nagsimula kami.. Monday ata? Oo. Tapos Tuesday hindi kami nagpractice. Todo todo na sa mga natitira pang araw, except Sunday, dahil bawal magtrabaho pag Sunday. Oo, basta ba obligado kang gawin ang isang bagay at may karampatan itong kabayaran, at sa sitwasyon na ito, ang tinutukoy ko ay mga matataas na grado, ito'y isa nang trabaho. Ang kumontra, tutuksuhin ko kay Harvey. mwahaha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Malat na malat na ako. Sana naman, Lord, sana naman po, maging maayos po ang presentation naming lahat bukas. Pati na rin dun sa ibang mga section. Pero syempre, sana the best ang Darwin III :].&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pagkatapos ng Carol Fest, meron namang Christmas party. At gift-giving. Hay... Onti lang mareregaluhan ko. Grabe. Para sa mga kaibigan kong hindi ko mareregaluhan, pasensya na. Hindi na nagkasya ang budget ko sa inyo. Sorry talaga. Ang regalo ko nalang sa inyo ay ang aking pagiging tapat na kaibigan. Papakopyahin ko rin kayo ng homework hanggang sa matapos ang school year na 'to. Pwede na ba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Para naman dun sa mga mareregaluhan ko, pasalamat kayo at hindi ko na inalphabetize ang christmas list ko. Ni hindi na nga ako gumamit ng table of random numbers. You people are so unfair. Huh? Okay. Medyo nalilito na ako kung ano ang punto ng sinulat kong yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;So switch subject.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Tinanong nga pala ako ni Gil kung pwede ba raw akong gumawa ng class shirt. Syempre naman pwede. Pero syempre, mag-iisang buwan na rin ata simula nang itanong niya ito sakin. At syempre, hindi ko pa nagagawa ang tungkulin kong ito. Navivisualize ko palang sa utak ko, pero hindi ko pa nalilipat sa Photoshop.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero may excuse ako! Nakakaoverwhelm ang ating mga adhikain sa paaralan, at hindi ko kinaya pang gumawa ng design para sa class shirt. Alam niyo bang tinigilin ko na rin muna ang piano lessons ko for this school year? T_T At nakakapagpiano ako siguro once a week na lang? Hay... Kaya ba naman di ko mapigilang i-hoard yung keyboard ni Jolina. Haha. Sensya na. Pero siguro naman by January mabibigay ko na sa inyo yung design, so don't lose hope.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At syempre, magkakaroon nga pala kami ng malaking family reunion sa Pasko. Golden anniversary kasi nina Lolo Bobby at Lola Alice, so mag-uuwian mga tito, tita, ninang, ninong, at pinsan ko dito sa Pinas. Hindi ko alam kung pano ako makakasurvive. Hindi ko kayang mag-English lang buong araw. I'll die! (syempre sinulat ko yun gamit ang wikang Ingles :)) Hay, good luck na lang saming magkakapatid, lalo na kay Mommy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mother. Ganito pala ang mag-ako ng mga responsibilidad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*sigh*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Babalik nalang ako sa pagiging baby. Walang naninisi o kaya humihingi sayo pag baby ka.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-5123609926762179297?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/5123609926762179297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=5123609926762179297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5123609926762179297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/5123609926762179297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/kunwari-responsable.html' title='Kunwari Responsable'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6243885530944482515</id><published>2008-12-15T22:17:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T22:23:26.134+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tanga</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko lang talaga maintindihan kung bakit napakatanga ko. Takte. Akala ko ba titigilan ko na? Tigil na, Ysa. Wala ka ring mapapala. Hindi pa ba sapat ang mga kaibigan at pamilya mo? Itigil mo na yang mga pangarap mo, bago ka pa bangungutin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hoy babae, bata ka pa. Marami ka pang bigas na nakabalot ng nori na kakainin. Huwag mo sayangin ang mga araw mo sa kakahintay, kung pwede ka namang mabuhay ng matiwasay. Alisin mo na siya sa utak mo. Patayin mo na yang pag-asa sa puso mo. Magpaalam ka na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Takte, takte. Buti nalang at nakalampas na ako sa suicidal stage ng buhay ko. Ang dami mo nang nalampasan, Ysa. Huwag kang magpatalo sa pagsubok na 'to. Shhh... Tahan na. Malapit na magbakasyon. Shh... Hindi mo na kelangang maghirap pa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Shh... Tahan na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6243885530944482515?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6243885530944482515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6243885530944482515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6243885530944482515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6243885530944482515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/tanga.html' title='Tanga'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-2850628771086766147</id><published>2008-12-11T23:15:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T00:02:35.104+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;11:27 na, sabi ng computer ko. Wow. Hindi naman sa hindi ko inaasahang maaga ang tulog ko ngayon. Dalawa ata projects na ipapasa bukas, Chem at Stat. Kalahati palang natatapos ko sa Chem, at wala pang solutions ung iba sa mga ginawa ko sa Stat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Oh well. Dibale. Bahala na si Batman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Malapit na mag-umaga, pero kunwari hindi pa ako inaantok. Nakatulog kasi ako ng 8-9, kaya medyo may kakayanan pang magproduce ng work ang aking body na kunwari'y may mass of 120 lbs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Grabe, na-miss ko ang pagblublug ko. Akalain mo yun? Nakakatuwa palang may nagbabasa ng mga pinagsusulat mo, na may nakakaintindi sayo kahit papano. Ok. Medyo malabo at yun. Basta. Namiss kita, blog.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bigyan ko kaya tong blog na to ng pangalan. Yun bang tipong may Dear Diary sa simula ng bawat entry. Pero ayoko ng Dear Diary. Eww. Kadiri. Mas gusto ko pa yung To Whom It May Concern.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Eh, wag na lang. Nakakatamad nang magsingit pa ng ganyan bago yung mismong post. Sayang sa html space.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakaalis ako ng school mga 6:30 na. Kaming dalawa nalang ni Frances ang natira sa mga Alto. (yess. kinakareer ang Carol Fest. ay sori. Carol of the Bells na pala ngayon.) Kasabay ko pauwi ang mag-inang Solomon (thank you sa pagtiyatiyago niyo samin, tita.). Drinop-off namin sila sa kanilang bahay, na nakalimutan kong tingnan dahil pagkababa nila'y naghanap na ako ng makakain sa mga singit-singit ng Revo namin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Anak ng tokwa. Wala akong nahanap na sustenance. Kaya ayun. Nagchewing gum nalang ako. Yung Orbit pare. Pampatanggal ng bad breath, na sure akong meron na ako nung mga panahong yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wow. 10 minutes na akong nagsusulat. Haha. May pinatutunguhan ba 'tong post na 'to? Kunwari nalang meron. Tinetesting ko kung gano katagal bago ako mahalata ng tatay ko o kung sino mang gising pa rito na hindi na project ang tinatype ko, kundi isang ewan na blog entry.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakakatuwa namang panoorin 'tong mga insektong nagsisiliparan sa monitor ng computer. Kulay jade, tapos transparent. Akala ko nga parte nung background nung isang site na pinuntahan ko, pero biglang gumalaw. Astig. Live optical illusion, pare.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ayun. Gumapang na siya sa likod ng monitor. Nakakatuwa talaga siya. Basta ba hindi ipis, ok na. Ano bang meron sa ipis at hinayaan sila ng Diyos na mag-go forth and multiply ng ganito karami? Iniisip ko palang sila.... *shiver*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*cough*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kunwari hindi niyo nabasa yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sige, ibahin naman natin. Nagbunutan na nga pala kami para sa exchange gift. Nabunot ko si *toot*brush. Buti nalang. Di yun mahirap hanapan ng regalo. Yung tanong nalang, paraan ng paghahanda at pagbigay ng regalo. Kung ibalot ko kaya sa chocolate box at ipabigay kay *toot*paste? mwahaha. grabe. buti nalang at may mga codename sa mundo, kundi matagal na akong nakatay at nagapangan ng mga ipis.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*shiver*&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Takte. Anyway, balik tayo sa exchange gift. Para mapadali nga pala ang proseso ng gift-giving, gumawa kami ng listahan ng gusto naming makuha. PANAWAGAN SA NAKABUNOT SAKIN!! Gusto ko ng libro. Libro. As in nobela. Pwede na rin siguro anthology. Ewan. Basta bawal text book, reference book, cook book, atbp. Comics siguro pwede narin. Basta Kikomachine, o kaya naman yung Panty something. Haha. Nakakatuwa yung mga pics dun e.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Wow. 11:51 na. Tulog na kaya ako? Hindi. Sagarin ko na. Magpupuyat na rin lang ako, paabutin ko na ng umaga. Ika nga, The early bird didn't party last night. (uii. nagbabasa ng advertisements ng Pepsi.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ayun. Yung wish list. Natuwa ako dun kay Miles e. Kahit anong masusulatan. 1/4, pede na? Yun pang kay Royce. Felt shoes. :)) Putakte.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ayun. 11:54. Countdown ata ito e. Ng ano? Countdown para sa Midnight Sun. Ayy. Haha. Kinancel na raw yun. Nainis kasi si Stephenie Meyer sa isang taong nagkalat ng nearly finished draft ng Midnight Sun, kaya hindi na raw niya itutuloy. Hmph. Ano ba yun. E alam na naman na nating lahat yung mangyayari e. Yun lang perspective ni Edward hinihingi namin. Yun lang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*sob* The world is so cruel.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;11:56. Ang galinggg, grabe. Bumibilis ako magtype habang papalapit ng papalapit ang napipintong katapusan. Ang haba narin nito a. Ano pa bang nonsense masisingit ko dito?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ahh... May Battle of the Bands nga pala bukas. Whoo! Good luck sa Six Stitches, kahit pa hindi ko pa kayo naririnig na magperform sa stage. At hindi pa rin bukas. Haha. Sensya na. Nakawala kasi ako ng P1000 (alam to nina Frances), kaya medyo mahigpit muna sa pera ngayon. Saka tinatamad narin ako. Haha. Sensya na. Bibilhin ko nalang ang album niyo pag meron na.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;And 10... 9... 8... 8... 8...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Haha. Wokeii.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;12 na. Paalam mga nilalang :D&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-2850628771086766147?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/2850628771086766147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=2850628771086766147' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2850628771086766147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/2850628771086766147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/insomnia.html' title='Insomnia'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8719204694144219796</id><published>2008-12-10T19:54:00.002+08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T20:40:12.286+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Shards of My Being</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;My entry for the Poetry Slam Contest at our school. I'll probably edit this still, since this doesn't look like it'll reach 3 minutes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hello, person, how have you been?&lt;br /&gt;It’s been ten years since&lt;br /&gt;You can hardly be the same&lt;br /&gt;What do they call you now?&lt;br /&gt;Shall I dare call you by your name?&lt;br /&gt;No, I suppose I shan’t.&lt;br /&gt;It’s probably already changed.&lt;br /&gt;So I’ll say hello, person,&lt;br /&gt;Who are you now?&lt;br /&gt;I have this image of you in my mind&lt;br /&gt;A pen in one hand,&lt;br /&gt;Your child in the other,&lt;br /&gt;On your desk is nothing but clutter.&lt;br /&gt;I see you wearing a bun on your head,&lt;br /&gt;That same old smile dancing about your lips&lt;br /&gt;But this time,&lt;br /&gt;Without the prosthetics.&lt;br /&gt;I smell the pasta burning in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;I hear the strain of quartet strings.&lt;br /&gt;I see him kissing your cheek.&lt;br /&gt;You always did believe in simplicity.&lt;br /&gt;Note how I write did.&lt;br /&gt;So tell me, did you stick to the plan?&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe you chose money over the sun&lt;br /&gt;Are you soaring up there,&lt;br /&gt;Up in your gray-colored skies?&lt;br /&gt;Or are you now part of the charade,&lt;br /&gt;With your own comfortable bed of lies?&lt;br /&gt;I hardly know you&lt;br /&gt;It’s been too long&lt;br /&gt;Seventy years, if we were dogs.&lt;br /&gt;And yet I do know you&lt;br /&gt;More than anyone ever will&lt;br /&gt;For who else am I,&lt;br /&gt;If not your own self?&lt;br /&gt;I am you, stuck in this void of fifteen&lt;br /&gt;Here, then gone,&lt;br /&gt;I am different from the me I was&lt;br /&gt;Before this poem began&lt;br /&gt;And yet I am I, and you are me&lt;br /&gt;And it is both a blessing and a pity&lt;br /&gt;That neither of us will ever be free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8719204694144219796?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8719204694144219796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8719204694144219796' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8719204694144219796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8719204694144219796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/12/shards-of-my-being.html' title='Shards of My Being'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-6791190057008326606</id><published>2008-11-29T13:05:00.004+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T13:43:04.905+08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Mommy, I feel hot."</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;May project kang di mo pa natatapos. May mga kaklase kang ayaw mo munang makita, maging kaaway mo man sila o kaibigan. May mga leksyon sa eskuwelahan na ayaw mo munang matutunan. Malambot ang unan mo ngayong umaga. Masarap humiga at matulog na lang.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ano ang gagawin mo?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Papasok ang iyong inay sa kuwarto mo. May malay ka na, pero kunwari tulog ka parin. Hahawakan ang iyong balikat ng iyong ina.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Anak, gising na. 5 na. Baka ma-late ka pa sa school."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Di ka iimik. Ikaw ay isang bangkay na nakalatay sa iyong kama.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Anak. May long test ka pa mamaya. Sige ka."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sige ba. Long test pa nga pala. Yang long test na yan na pinagpuyatan mo kagabi sa pag-aaral, kahit na alam mong ibabagsak mo lang rin naman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Anak. Ui. 5:15 na."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mahigpit na ang hawak niya sa balikat mo. Masakit. Imposibleng hindi ka pa magising sa lagay na yun. Kaya ididilat mo ang mga mata mo na parang may hang-over ka, at bubuksan ang bibig at magbubuga ng isang mala-teatrikong hikab.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*hikab* "Baki-?" *kurap* "Ma?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bangon na. Baka ma-late ka pa."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Anong oras na ba?" (&lt;i&gt;ang boses mo'y dapat mas malakas lamang ng onti sa bulong. yun bang boses na madaling pumiyok.&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"5:20 na," sasabihin niya. Ibig sabihin ay 5:00 pa lang talaga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;*hikab* "Maaga pa, ma." *hikab* "Pede 5 minutes?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hindi."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"3?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Mag-iisip siya ng onti. "Sige na nga."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay salamat. Mabibigyan ka pa ng isang minutong kapayapaan. Isang minuto dahil ang sinusundan mo dito ay ang orasan ng nanay mo, dahil ito ay laging advanced 'pag ikaw ay late, at laging late 'pag ikaw ay advanced.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At pagkatapos nga ng isang minuto...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Tapos na 3 minutes mo. Bangon na."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Dapat bilisan na ang pag-iisip. Ikukunot mo ang noo mo. Ang mukha mo'y magiging tulad dun sa mukha ng mga tao sa commercial ng Datu Puti. Ang Mukha ng Tunay na Sarap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"E, Ma-" *pikit nang parang nasasaktan* "Masama pakiramdam ko ngayon."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Anong masama?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;I-aangat mo ang kamay mo na parang ika'y hinang-hina, at ipapatong ito sa noo mo. Hintay ka ng sandali. Tandaang ang mukha mo ay dapat maging Mukha ng Tunay na Sarap ng Datu Puti.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Ma, may lagnat ata ako." (&lt;i&gt;pwede kang pumiyok dito&lt;/i&gt;)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Lagnat?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Aalisin niya ang kamay mo mula sa nakakunot mong noo, at papalitan ito ng kanyang malamig at malambot na kamay. At bigla mong maaalala na doktor nga pala ang nanay mo, na halos araw-araw ay tumitingin siya ng mga batang may sipon, ubo, pneumonia, at lagnat. At maaalala mo ang mga panahong ginamit mo ang taktikong ito, at maaalala mo ang laging kinahihinatnan nito.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Lagnat ka dyan. Normal naman temperature mo e."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Hindi a." Ibabalik mo ang kamay mo sa noo mo at pakikiramdaman muli ito. "Ang init o!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Siguro may lahing Medusa ang iyong ina. Naging bato ka sa nakakatakot na titig niya.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;"Bumangon ka na nga. 5:30 na o. 30 minutes na nasayang natin dito. (&lt;i&gt;sa totoo'y siguro 5 minutes pa lang&lt;/i&gt;) Malalate na kayo nito."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At iyon ang gusto mong mangyari. Ang ma-late. Ang magbakasyon. Ang matulog at managinip na lang buong araw sa iyong kamang laging lumalambot kapag ika'y dapat bumangon na. Pero wala ka nang magagawa pa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Matapos ang isang oras, nasa school ka na. Pasahan na ng project na hindi mo pa nagagawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-6791190057008326606?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/6791190057008326606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=6791190057008326606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6791190057008326606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/6791190057008326606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/11/mommy-i-feel-hot.html' title='&quot;Mommy, I feel hot.&quot;'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8097423705129613298</id><published>2008-11-24T20:26:00.008+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T22:12:27.180+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Adieu mon Cherie</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Pakiusap lang, kung ayaw niyong mainis, at kung sawa na rin kayong katulad ko sa pag-ibig, huwag na huwag niyo 'tong babasahin.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kanina masaya ako (obvious ba sa mga gm ko na hyper ako kanina?). Ngayon hindi na. Kanina maganda ang buhay. Ngayon malungkot nanaman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi ko lang talaga maintindihan. Bakit sa lahat ng pwede kong pagpilian, sa iyo pa nahulog ang loob ko? Sa'yo na nagiging rason para makapagsulat ako ng ganito ka-emo na mga post.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa totoo lang, di ko naman din alam kung gusto talaga kita, o kung gusto ko ang imaheng nasa isip ko na may mukha mo. Siguro yung pangalawa. Ewan. Basta.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hindi mo naman kasalanan e. At magiging mabait ako sa sarili ko at sasabihin kong hindi ko rin 'to kasalanan. Wala na akong sisisihin pa. Pagod na akong manakit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pasensya na lang sa lahat. Wala naman sa ating ginusto mangyari to e. Ewan ko lang kung mababasa mo 'to, at kung makikilala mo kung sino ka. Walang nakakaalam. Marunong naman ako magtago ng sikreto kung gusto ko e.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pasensya na mga tao. Oo. Sawa na rin ako sa mga emo na post na 'to. Promise. Masaya na yung susunod. Nag-vent lang ako ng damdamin ko dito, kahit na wala ni isa sa inyong makaintindi.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magpapaalam na ako sayo. Uli. Lagi ko nalang sinasabi yun. Hindi ko rin alam kung totohanan na ba ito, o kung babalik parin ako sa lokohan. Onti na lang at bibiyak na ang puso ko e. Hindi ko na kakayanin. Pero magkikita uli tayo bukas, at mas posible sa hindi na makakalimutan kong nagpaalam na nga pala ako sayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pakiusap lang. Wag ka na kasing maging sarkastiko. Nagegets ko naman, pero paminsan kasi, masasaktan muna ako bago ko maintindihan. Deretsuhin mo na ako, kung pwede lang. Hindi naman malaking sakripisyo yun diba?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hay... Ewan ba. Ewan talaga. Parang masarap nga 'tong gawan ng nobela balang araw. Papangalanan ko siyang Sisa, dahil unti-unti na akong nababaliw sa mga pinag-iisip kong ito. Ayoko na. Pero gustong-gusto ko rin naman.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang hirap kasi mag-isip pag nasa tabi kita eh. Parang napupuno ng hamog ang utak ko. At ang hamog ay ang anino mo, ang ngiti mo, ang mga mata mo, masaya, galit, malungkot. Masama bang magmahal ng patago? Ni hindi nga ata 'to pagmamahal eh. Hay... Ewan ba.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nakakapagod na. Pasensya na kung bumaba ang pagtingin mo sakin pagkatapos mo 'tong basahin. Bakit nga ba sa blog ko pa 'to nilagay, at di nalang sa Word? Di ko rin alam eh. Wala lang. Sanay na siguro akong mag-blog. Kahit na wala itong privacy. Kahit na baka malaman na ng mundo ang sikreto ko. Kaya nga tinagalog ko 'to eh. Para di maintindihan ng mga pinsan ko abroad.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Napakawalang-kwentang dahilan, ano?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pasensya na talaga. Dapat rin ba akong magpasalamat? Siguro sa susunod na, pag naghilom na ang mga sugat. Siguro pag bumait ka na. Siguro pag tumino na tayong dalawa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At siguro wala kang naintindihan sa mga pinagsusulat ko dito. Ok lang. Sinadya ko naman talaga e. Ok nang di mo na malaman pa. Gagawin ko rin ang lahat para di mo mapansin. Magpapaalam na ako. At sana ngayon, totoo na 'to.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8097423705129613298?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8097423705129613298/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8097423705129613298' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8097423705129613298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8097423705129613298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/11/pakiusap-lang-kung-ayaw-niyong-mainis.html' title='Adieu mon Cherie'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-9025919856582604081</id><published>2008-11-20T20:03:00.005+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T20:39:29.952+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bunso</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bata, bata. Bakit ba ganon ang tawag ko sayo? Kapatid? Para naman tayong gangsters. Kaya bata na lang, dahil hindi ko alam ang pangalan mo. Wala kang pangalan dahil hindi ka pa naman pinapanganak.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bata, bata. Alam mo bang madalas kitang isipin? Hindi ko napapansin, pero ganun lang talaga. Lalo na ngayon, ngayong ibang-iba na ang mundo at ang pamilya natin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Bata, bata. Alam mo ba kung gano ako kasaya nung nalaman kong buntis ang inay sayo? Di ko rin kasi alam eh. Parang, wala lang. Bagong kapatid. Yey. Pero hanggang ngayon ay nakikita ko ang mga mata ng ating ina. Kumikinang. Kumikislap. Parang singkit pero hindi naman talaga. Parang may mga bulalakaw sa ilalim ng balon, na ngayo'y madalas kong nakikitang kapos.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At inisip ko, bata, kung ano na ang mangyayari sa buhay ko. Bagong kapatid. Bagong kaagaw. Bagong ligaya. Bagong pag-asa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ginusto kita, bata. Minahal kita. Sa isip ko naglalaro tayo ng Barbie dolls, at nakabaon ang mukha ko sa malambot mong balat, isang milagrong sa mga inosenteng anghel na tulad mo lamang ibinibiyaya. At ika'y nakangiti, at alam kong mahal mo rin ako sa mga panahong yon. At naroon tayo, ang ate at bunso, magkasamang haharap sa mundo. Wala nang mga sikreto, wala nang poot. Hindi ka na kailanman maghahanap pa ng kahit ano. Lahat ibibigay ko sayo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At bigla ka na lamang nawala.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Ang galing ano? Nawala ka sa amin bago ka pa maging amin. Nakakatawa paminsan kung iisipin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nung una'y di ako naniwala. Ikaw? Patay na? Malungkot si inay at itay habang kinakausap nila kaming mga kapatid mo. Miscarriage. Masyado na raw matanda. Hindi na kaya pa. Patay ka na raw. Patay na raw ang kapatid ko. Wala na raw ang buhay ko.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Nilibing ka namin sa hardin, malapit sa may bakod. May halaman nang tumutubo sa puntod mo, at natatakpan na rin ata ito ng bahay kubo. Pinakita ka nila sa amin bago ka ibaon sa ilalim ng lupa, malayo sa aming nakalulunod na pighati at pag-irog. Nakabalot ka sa tissue paper, parang isa ka lamang malaking kumpol ng natutuyong dugo. Ni hindi mo kamukha yung mga butiking nakadrawing sa science books namin.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At alam mo bang minahal kita nun?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Paminsan, lalo na pag ang mundo ko'y kasing patag ng mundo ng mga sinaunang manlalayag, iisipin kita at ang aking mga naudlot na pangarap. Ang ate at ang bunso. Isa nabubuhay para sa isa. At paminsan, kung pwede lang, mabubuhay ka muli. Hindi tulad ng mga sanggol na nasa mga pangarap ko, ngunit mga sanggol na bigla na lamang tatawa o kaya'y iiyak para sa gatas ng ina.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At minahal kita, bata.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-9025919856582604081?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/9025919856582604081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=9025919856582604081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9025919856582604081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/9025919856582604081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/11/bunso.html' title='Bunso'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7658702302592705317.post-8535628528612577816</id><published>2008-11-17T18:49:00.003+08:00</published><updated>2008-11-17T19:09:31.572+08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yuletide Seasoning</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="indent"&gt;38 days na lang Christmas na. Nanaman. Panahon nanaman ng bagyo at ulan. Marami nanaman ang mamamatay, papatay, at magpapakamatay. Mas malungkot talaga ang mundo kapag panahon ng kaligayahan.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magkikita-kita muli ang pamilya. Sasabihin nanaman nila, Ang laki na ng tinangkad mo ah!, kahit hindi ka naman talaga tumangkad. Wala lang kasi silang ibang masabi, dahil hindi naman talaga kayo magkakilala. Sa mukha't pangalan lang. Paminsan nga, kahit yung man lang, nakakalimutan pa.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Magsasabit nanaman ng mga makikinang na palamuti na iiwanang nakasindi sa gabi. Kinabukasan, magugulat ka na lang at abo na lang ang natira sa tirahan at katawan mo. Made in China kasi mga ilaw na ginamit mo. May melamine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Noche Buena pagsapit ng gabi. Engrande ang pista, kahit na mangingilan lang naman kayong kakain. Mapapasubo ka tuloy sa iyong mortal na kaaway. Lahat ng gutom na tiniis, lahat ng tabang ipinawis, araw-araw, gabi-gabi, mauuwi lamang sa wala. Lahat masisira ng litson, hamon, cake, queso de bola, putanesca, chibog, at vodka. Paalam mga payat na pangarap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;At huwag nating kakalimutan ang mga regalo. Sa kanila ata umiikot ang celebrasyon na ito. Hindi totoo ang pinagsasabi nila na lahat ay nakasentro sa kaarawan ng Anak ng Diyos. Huwag kayong makinig sa mga hipokritong yun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Sa halip, namnamin niyo na lang ang inyong mga bagong damit, na kasyang-kasya kung leeg lang ang balak niyong mabihisan. May mga manika na hindi mo naman na mapaglalaruan pa, dahil ika'y dalaga na at pangmatatanda na ang iyong mga laruan. Ibibigay mo na lamang ang mga manika sa mga pinsan mong inosente pa, mga batang hindi alam na ang life-size scale ng dibdib ni Barbie ay Cup Y.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Pero bawal magreklamo. Dapat magpakabait. Ang mga masasamang bata ah hindi raw reregaluhan ni Santa Claus.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Hayy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Kawawa talaga yung mamang yun. Pasado nang magkaapo sa hinlalaki, pilit parin pinapapanhik ng bubong nga kabataan. Iba. Loyal sa Akyat Bahay Gang. Strong. Nag-Aarthro siguro sa umaga.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="indent"&gt;Huwag niyong pansinin ang mga pinagsusulat ko dito. Masaya naman talaga ang Pasko. Huwag lang kayong titingin, makikinig, titikim, aamoy, at dadamdam. Maging mga anghel na lang kayong pinapatong sa tuktok ng Christmas tree. Masaya sila dun. Nakakulong sa kani-kaniyang perpektong mundo.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7658702302592705317-8535628528612577816?l=scholiophobia.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/feeds/8535628528612577816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7658702302592705317&amp;postID=8535628528612577816' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8535628528612577816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7658702302592705317/posts/default/8535628528612577816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://scholiophobia.blogspot.com/2008/11/yuletide-seasoning.html' title='Yuletide Seasoning'/><author><name>pandatester01</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13551212419257709810</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
