Enjoy reading these posts. They’re really interesting. I had to do this just in case I lose some files.
Voice
Can thou hear thy voice that sings of harmony?Thy voice that sings thru subtle telepathy,Thy thought stirs away One’s entire plight,To stand One’s ground and staunchly fight…
Only with thy gentle voice,A lonely heart is keenly hoist,Nay, only with thy stare thou kindle,The winds to calm and remain so subtle…
Thy hand lifts all hurt away,Colors all that’s dull and gray,Thought of thee is all One’s state,That most of thou is kindness innate…
Thou art an angel of righteous descent,One chosen amongst others and heaven sent,All ruptured wounds, from mislaid reel,Thy divine hands grant to heal…
One shall be thy noble fighter,One thou could hope to battle another,One could aid like none further,One whose wounds thou could make better…
And when One goes weary from all One’s battles,Thy voice gives relief and frees from hassle,And when all is gone and all hope is lost,One shall still heave through fire or frost…
And if One shall stand alone against an army,With Heaven’s resolve and thy sentry,One shall seek all retribution amidst austerity,Even if it means demise proposed inevitability…
As the day ends and night falls,As bright sun sets, and vivid moon hauls,As One sleep from One’s troubles wake,One thinks of thee and thy fine sake…
So many things thou ever should see,So many choices falling on thee,Should it be thy destiny,All thy thoughts and hopes set free…
Parting is such sweet sorrow,To think of thee is One’s heart’s marrow,Thy radiance lights the evening sky,These One say, One dares not lie…
Mundane
i don’t really know what i’m feeling..
why can’t i seem to see..
i know now that she’s happy and free..
no matter how strong i pretend to be..
i can’t stop the pain in me..
a thousand tears i cry..
’till i feel my tired eyes dry..
truly, this pain makes me want to die..
and soar through heaven’s high..
she won’t even spare a glance..
i’m trapped in depression’s trance..
in fire my souls they dance..
awaiting that dreadful lance..
self pity..
Here’s one that I got from the internet, it was pretty, so I decided to post it anyway.
An angel filled with grief
Why am I flying like a falling angel
Whose wings are burdered by the weight of grief
And whose heaven was closed and the key was poured into the hands of a gentle pilgrim…
I am a child of lonelyness
As I am bound to bring truth and joy all over this land
As soon as a ray of light from a thousand smiles warms my house
I’ll be on a run again
In search of what was lost and will be refound..
I am the healer of wounds of a very pain
I will surround you with the warmth of my feathered arms
And I will be singing your lullabies
And lead you to the sister of death, a sweet slumber
And the stars will fade, the nightingale will end his song
And my road will be waiting again…
I am the bright morning after a night full of fear
I am the teller of fairytales in silent times
I am the wooden chair who brings an old man’s rest
I am the joy of children and the laughter of mankind
And I am an angel, filled with grief…
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Losing valiantly
I have always looked at debating in a “Naruto” perspective, wherein the underdog often gets the upperhand. Here’s how the Naruto perspective affected me in several tourneys.
NDC
Our team ranked the 5th lowest. Wow. I don’t really know what to say about that. To think that I had my hopes up of breaking, well, not really breaking, I just had my hopes up of making an image. The experience in Baguio was fine, save that little incident we had with GC Suzy. But along with Baguio’s cold condition came that frozen feeling of being stuck in a place where you can’t really make a name out of yourself, not for your teammate, not for your Debate Society, not for your University. I guess I just wasted money, time and destroyed an unstained reputation meter I had with some people.
ANC
Siliman University vs. Lyceum of the Philippines University. My first time in TV. Great. But then again, the fact that we lost in Cable Television makes the premise of being in TV sound a lot less positive. We were all really enthusiastic at first. We had that warm blooded feeling that founded its roots on Lyceum’s victory in ANC against Ateneo de Davao with Ate Suzy and Kuya Barny. My family was also excited when they found out I was going to be on TV. Disappointment struck though. We were all constructive speakers and I didn’t have enough training to go along with JJ and Ryan’s level. No dynamism, No good case and our momentum to acheiving Debate Fame and Fortune just gradually decreased. In short, being Deputy Leader of the Opposition, I screwed it up. BIG TIME. Want proof? Type ANC Octofinals in Youtube to find out. The only good thing about it is that my mom said that I looked like Gerald Santos in TV. On second thought, was that really a good thing?
PIDC
1-6, standing. There was a moment while sitting with Mila and Bryan in a table at UP Diliman when I thought of our losing streak. Sure, we lost our chance of breaking in the second day when Bryan woke up late for the 3rd round for the whole tournament which is also the first round of that day, but we had this notion in our minds that we have to win some for the team, again hopes were drawn from faulty ground and we still ended up with nothing to compensate for our preps and team spirit. We were the lowest seeding team of the Lyceum Contingent. Compensation? I get to diss Bryan in my speeches and use the word “churva” in an actual debate.
It was a myriad of different emotions intertwining with each other. With each second that passed by after each heart wrenching loss, I came into grips with myself and reflected if everything that we went through was worth it.
Let’s set it straight. We were underdogs. I guess I had my head in the clouds for so long, I forgot about grounding my skills. My mind’s been programmed to percieve debating as something similar to the Naruto theme of being the underdog means being the loser at first and claiming it all at the end of the day. These losses were a big wake up call to me. Being an underdog isn’t followed by glorious victories and heroic welcomes. But then again……….
But I guess in losing there is something gained. One of Life’s timeless lessons is actually being taught to me. It is being taught to me in the most effective way possible: the hard way. I guess I was looking at Success in a shallow way, or maybe I’m losing my mind (chez). With every loss there is always gain.
In NDC, I guess I did badly but me and ate Enzy still pushed through by at least having one win over all other teams. We had fun too, meeting new people and being able to learn new things from other debaters. Baguio was great, it was cold, we met new friends there and being in the hotel with a bunch of people I never knew that well, save Ate Tima, I definitely learned a few things about getting along. Considering that, I guess I have made a name for myself, though it’s not exactly the way I wanted it to be, but I have. People were able to know me better.
In ANC. Pressure, pressure, pressure. But then again, knowing that people just want to see you in TV makes me feel like I have already won. I screwed up, but I did the best I could do in that time. I knew I could do better, but in television, it’s all about the glamour. I saw make-up, a genuine make-up artist, a hairbrush, 4 cameras, tables that looked like it came from a sci fi flick and the show host who I think really appreciated me being wierd. It was a brand new experience for me and my family. I said to myself: “Damn. We Lost. But at least I was on TV! In ya face!”
PIDC was really wierd. We won our first round against PUP A, the politics and economics division. We lost to UPD B (duh?!?). But at the end of that day, we never really dwelt on our loss, rather we dwelt on what our adjudicator, Sharmila, said to us. We actually had a case! What’s more, we clashed! It was shallow, sure, but we were actually going against giants, but we also threw punches despite what little punch we had. You could say that we were really looking forward to the third round with new founded zeal. The following day Bryan didn’t show up in time. He got so late, ate glad had to replace him thereby forfeiting our chance of breaking to the octofinals. We got really mad at Bryan at first, but that faded after a speech form Ryan. During that day we were in our all time low and we weren’t really in the mood to debate. We lost the following rounds too in the thrid day. But in that moment of darkness shone the light of reason. We actually developed structure and dynamism. Also, UPD was a very huge place, with lots of trees and stuff, a lot like baguio, except much hotter. We met a few people, had some laughs in the ending rounds and again, I was actaully able to use the word: : “CHURVA”.
So maybe I have not surpassed anyone yet, nor have I proven to be a grave threat to anyone in the roster of debating giants. So what? I got to fight and get over my worst enemy: Shallow thinking and an overwhelming amount of ego, something that most people may have trouble getting over. I may have lost the battle, but not the war. I live, I lose, I cry, I learn. To quote:
“You will fail many times, but in falling, you will learn, and in learning, you will find your way. Remember, there are no mistakes in life -only lessons. And lessons will keep REPEATING THEMSELVES until LEARNED.”
So what’s wrong with looking at things in the Naruto perspective? I am an underdog, but in the end, I’m the greatest debater ever!
NDC
Our team ranked the 5th lowest. Wow. I don’t really know what to say about that. To think that I had my hopes up of breaking, well, not really breaking, I just had my hopes up of making an image. The experience in Baguio was fine, save that little incident we had with GC Suzy. But along with Baguio’s cold condition came that frozen feeling of being stuck in a place where you can’t really make a name out of yourself, not for your teammate, not for your Debate Society, not for your University. I guess I just wasted money, time and destroyed an unstained reputation meter I had with some people.
ANC
Siliman University vs. Lyceum of the Philippines University. My first time in TV. Great. But then again, the fact that we lost in Cable Television makes the premise of being in TV sound a lot less positive. We were all really enthusiastic at first. We had that warm blooded feeling that founded its roots on Lyceum’s victory in ANC against Ateneo de Davao with Ate Suzy and Kuya Barny. My family was also excited when they found out I was going to be on TV. Disappointment struck though. We were all constructive speakers and I didn’t have enough training to go along with JJ and Ryan’s level. No dynamism, No good case and our momentum to acheiving Debate Fame and Fortune just gradually decreased. In short, being Deputy Leader of the Opposition, I screwed it up. BIG TIME. Want proof? Type ANC Octofinals in Youtube to find out. The only good thing about it is that my mom said that I looked like Gerald Santos in TV. On second thought, was that really a good thing?
PIDC
1-6, standing. There was a moment while sitting with Mila and Bryan in a table at UP Diliman when I thought of our losing streak. Sure, we lost our chance of breaking in the second day when Bryan woke up late for the 3rd round for the whole tournament which is also the first round of that day, but we had this notion in our minds that we have to win some for the team, again hopes were drawn from faulty ground and we still ended up with nothing to compensate for our preps and team spirit. We were the lowest seeding team of the Lyceum Contingent. Compensation? I get to diss Bryan in my speeches and use the word “churva” in an actual debate.
It was a myriad of different emotions intertwining with each other. With each second that passed by after each heart wrenching loss, I came into grips with myself and reflected if everything that we went through was worth it.
Let’s set it straight. We were underdogs. I guess I had my head in the clouds for so long, I forgot about grounding my skills. My mind’s been programmed to percieve debating as something similar to the Naruto theme of being the underdog means being the loser at first and claiming it all at the end of the day. These losses were a big wake up call to me. Being an underdog isn’t followed by glorious victories and heroic welcomes. But then again……….
But I guess in losing there is something gained. One of Life’s timeless lessons is actually being taught to me. It is being taught to me in the most effective way possible: the hard way. I guess I was looking at Success in a shallow way, or maybe I’m losing my mind (chez). With every loss there is always gain.
In NDC, I guess I did badly but me and ate Enzy still pushed through by at least having one win over all other teams. We had fun too, meeting new people and being able to learn new things from other debaters. Baguio was great, it was cold, we met new friends there and being in the hotel with a bunch of people I never knew that well, save Ate Tima, I definitely learned a few things about getting along. Considering that, I guess I have made a name for myself, though it’s not exactly the way I wanted it to be, but I have. People were able to know me better.
In ANC. Pressure, pressure, pressure. But then again, knowing that people just want to see you in TV makes me feel like I have already won. I screwed up, but I did the best I could do in that time. I knew I could do better, but in television, it’s all about the glamour. I saw make-up, a genuine make-up artist, a hairbrush, 4 cameras, tables that looked like it came from a sci fi flick and the show host who I think really appreciated me being wierd. It was a brand new experience for me and my family. I said to myself: “Damn. We Lost. But at least I was on TV! In ya face!”
PIDC was really wierd. We won our first round against PUP A, the politics and economics division. We lost to UPD B (duh?!?). But at the end of that day, we never really dwelt on our loss, rather we dwelt on what our adjudicator, Sharmila, said to us. We actually had a case! What’s more, we clashed! It was shallow, sure, but we were actually going against giants, but we also threw punches despite what little punch we had. You could say that we were really looking forward to the third round with new founded zeal. The following day Bryan didn’t show up in time. He got so late, ate glad had to replace him thereby forfeiting our chance of breaking to the octofinals. We got really mad at Bryan at first, but that faded after a speech form Ryan. During that day we were in our all time low and we weren’t really in the mood to debate. We lost the following rounds too in the thrid day. But in that moment of darkness shone the light of reason. We actually developed structure and dynamism. Also, UPD was a very huge place, with lots of trees and stuff, a lot like baguio, except much hotter. We met a few people, had some laughs in the ending rounds and again, I was actaully able to use the word: : “CHURVA”.
So maybe I have not surpassed anyone yet, nor have I proven to be a grave threat to anyone in the roster of debating giants. So what? I got to fight and get over my worst enemy: Shallow thinking and an overwhelming amount of ego, something that most people may have trouble getting over. I may have lost the battle, but not the war. I live, I lose, I cry, I learn. To quote:
“You will fail many times, but in falling, you will learn, and in learning, you will find your way. Remember, there are no mistakes in life -only lessons. And lessons will keep REPEATING THEMSELVES until LEARNED.”
So what’s wrong with looking at things in the Naruto perspective? I am an underdog, but in the end, I’m the greatest debater ever!
Strangely meaningless
BBC reports of emos being attacked in Mexico. Well, quite frankly, I think that violence should be used for a meaningful purpose. What I saw in BBC gave me a myriad of emotions.
In a way, it felt nice to see the youth fighting for what they believe in.Despite the wierd physical appearances that I loathe, I started looking beyond that. i saw that they were there, the emo, standing for what they believed in. That was all that I felt until all of a sudden, the news reporter announced that they don’t really want to change the world, they were actually fighting for the right to be emotional. Not really punks rallying in an establishment, rather, “young people drawn to a life that puts the individual first”.
WTF?! That’s just B*llsh*t!
They could be emotional, but do they have to block traffic and all that just to get heard? They are already recognized in mexico, in the Philippines, and wherever! What else do they want?
I thought all along that they were fighting against some corrupt government official, or for better educational facilities. I thought wrong. Way wrong. According to one of the morons: “Emos let their emotions take over them. We’re not just depressives like others say.” They say that emos are being discriminated by punks, and gothics. Now for me, that’s just sick. To think that the emos have brought upon themselves to the level of violence? Well, not on their own alone, but with the help of their fellow punks and gothic boneheads. Why do they have to be in both physical and ideological conflict? According to a punk idiot: I”don’t like emos because they want to look like punks and goths… Those cultures are much more important thant emo, and they don’t know anything about that.”
Quite frankly, I’d like to kick this guy’s balls. Emotional hardcore came from Goths, which evolved from punk rock. Someone tell this guy how emo came from them.
Word to the punks and emos:
What?! Can’t look your children in the eye?
In a way, it felt nice to see the youth fighting for what they believe in.Despite the wierd physical appearances that I loathe, I started looking beyond that. i saw that they were there, the emo, standing for what they believed in. That was all that I felt until all of a sudden, the news reporter announced that they don’t really want to change the world, they were actually fighting for the right to be emotional. Not really punks rallying in an establishment, rather, “young people drawn to a life that puts the individual first”.
WTF?! That’s just B*llsh*t!
They could be emotional, but do they have to block traffic and all that just to get heard? They are already recognized in mexico, in the Philippines, and wherever! What else do they want?
I thought all along that they were fighting against some corrupt government official, or for better educational facilities. I thought wrong. Way wrong. According to one of the morons: “Emos let their emotions take over them. We’re not just depressives like others say.” They say that emos are being discriminated by punks, and gothics. Now for me, that’s just sick. To think that the emos have brought upon themselves to the level of violence? Well, not on their own alone, but with the help of their fellow punks and gothic boneheads. Why do they have to be in both physical and ideological conflict? According to a punk idiot: I”don’t like emos because they want to look like punks and goths… Those cultures are much more important thant emo, and they don’t know anything about that.”
Quite frankly, I’d like to kick this guy’s balls. Emotional hardcore came from Goths, which evolved from punk rock. Someone tell this guy how emo came from them.
Word to the punks and emos:
What?! Can’t look your children in the eye?
Emo: The wrist-slitting culture
I was scrolling through some High School Friends when I noticed a caption under a pic that read:
”Wala akong Kwenta, Magpapakamatay na ako.. Ganun ba talaga ang emo?”
My answer to that is… YES. Why??
Okey, so we’ve heard of emo. It’s had its share of attention for the past few years. It’s also had its share of acceptances, criticsms, and contradictions. But for us to digest how emo works as a generally accepted ideology (if it is an ideology, in the first place), and how I think its doctrines would bring damnation to the Youth segment of the Philippine Society, we have to ask ourselves: What is emo?
Firstly, emo is a fashion statement. We see emos sporting black shirts with pitiful statements on them (by pitiful, i mean the remarks on the tshirt, not a crime against fashion), tight fitting jeans that may cause for genital cancer (^_^), and that oh so popular one sided look. Also, they have eyeliners, spiked wristbands and a glazed look in the eyes. To put it simply, emos are easily spotted in the Philippines, and their outfit is loathing to conservatists (duh?) and to the Philippine youth’s image to the international community (I’ll explain later).
Secondly, emo is a genre. No, not only a genre of songs, rather, of everything. Books, literature, fashion sense, movies. “Emoism” has become some sort of channel/ avenue through which frustrations, sadness and other emotions experienced by hormonally struck teens is manifested. Just let it all out through sadness and sorrow.. It’s all about the glamour. There’s no sense in living anyway… yadyadyadyadyadyayayaya….
Thirdly, emo has becoming a socially accepted norm. We see them everyday, we even feel the impact of their existence over in the radio, in TV, in the internet. In friendster, several of my friends have those emo-related stuff as their wallpapers. Well, quite frankly, it’s disturbing. No offense.
Now that we’ve analyzed what “Emoism” really is, which is: a way of life, let’s have a comparative analysis of what was emo then and what is emo now. Emo means emotional. In the early 1960s, 1970s, or what have you, people were emotional. Emotional in a way that celebrates life. We see colorful clothes that stand for the importance of life and the sincerity of peace in our hearts, minds and spirits. By that time, the youth rallied against the vietnam war, the korean war and others that have to be mentioned. The Philippine youth rallied against Marcos in 1988, that’s something that’s commendable, and what we saw was the celebration of life. Not only internally, but in fashion, in music and in ideology.
Compare it to today;s emo. Selfish, stupid and downright pitiful. Why? Because it loathes life! We see the blood splatter, the pale makeup, the overwhelmingly sorrowful lyrics that wrenches hearts and persuades these mindless zombies to slit their wrists. So, yes, it may be freedom of expression, but it has its own limits. I mean the MIB are in black, but they do that for secrecy and stealth, not for the blackness of the void that is their miserable lives(which is not)! Pornography is a form of freedom of expression, but it’s illegeal (in most states). Why? Because it’s bad, bad in a sense that it brings distaste to conservatives, who are prevalent in Philippine society. It brings about a metacognitive of sex which could very well be bad for a 3rd world country trying to pass off overpopulation as a problem, and whose Catholic Church won’t accept contraceptives as a means of containg the overpopulation problem.
Emo brings about a sorrowful and hopeless mindset. Whether it be subjective or not, emo brings about a culture of hapless beings trying to pass off their lives as a miserable excuse of self pity and laziness. Think about it. They’re just being emotional, yeah, that’s what they would say. But if our national heroes would see them now, the wrist-slitting youth, apathetic to the socio political situation the Philippines is facing today. They would probably wish that they shouldn’y have had done what they have done for us. “Kung alam ko lang na ganito din naman pala yung mangyayari…” Word for the emos? Think of the hungry people in Africa, and in every part of the world. They’re not emo, but they have the right to be.
”Wala akong Kwenta, Magpapakamatay na ako.. Ganun ba talaga ang emo?”
My answer to that is… YES. Why??
Okey, so we’ve heard of emo. It’s had its share of attention for the past few years. It’s also had its share of acceptances, criticsms, and contradictions. But for us to digest how emo works as a generally accepted ideology (if it is an ideology, in the first place), and how I think its doctrines would bring damnation to the Youth segment of the Philippine Society, we have to ask ourselves: What is emo?
Firstly, emo is a fashion statement. We see emos sporting black shirts with pitiful statements on them (by pitiful, i mean the remarks on the tshirt, not a crime against fashion), tight fitting jeans that may cause for genital cancer (^_^), and that oh so popular one sided look. Also, they have eyeliners, spiked wristbands and a glazed look in the eyes. To put it simply, emos are easily spotted in the Philippines, and their outfit is loathing to conservatists (duh?) and to the Philippine youth’s image to the international community (I’ll explain later).
Secondly, emo is a genre. No, not only a genre of songs, rather, of everything. Books, literature, fashion sense, movies. “Emoism” has become some sort of channel/ avenue through which frustrations, sadness and other emotions experienced by hormonally struck teens is manifested. Just let it all out through sadness and sorrow.. It’s all about the glamour. There’s no sense in living anyway… yadyadyadyadyadyayayaya….
Thirdly, emo has becoming a socially accepted norm. We see them everyday, we even feel the impact of their existence over in the radio, in TV, in the internet. In friendster, several of my friends have those emo-related stuff as their wallpapers. Well, quite frankly, it’s disturbing. No offense.
Now that we’ve analyzed what “Emoism” really is, which is: a way of life, let’s have a comparative analysis of what was emo then and what is emo now. Emo means emotional. In the early 1960s, 1970s, or what have you, people were emotional. Emotional in a way that celebrates life. We see colorful clothes that stand for the importance of life and the sincerity of peace in our hearts, minds and spirits. By that time, the youth rallied against the vietnam war, the korean war and others that have to be mentioned. The Philippine youth rallied against Marcos in 1988, that’s something that’s commendable, and what we saw was the celebration of life. Not only internally, but in fashion, in music and in ideology.
Compare it to today;s emo. Selfish, stupid and downright pitiful. Why? Because it loathes life! We see the blood splatter, the pale makeup, the overwhelmingly sorrowful lyrics that wrenches hearts and persuades these mindless zombies to slit their wrists. So, yes, it may be freedom of expression, but it has its own limits. I mean the MIB are in black, but they do that for secrecy and stealth, not for the blackness of the void that is their miserable lives(which is not)! Pornography is a form of freedom of expression, but it’s illegeal (in most states). Why? Because it’s bad, bad in a sense that it brings distaste to conservatives, who are prevalent in Philippine society. It brings about a metacognitive of sex which could very well be bad for a 3rd world country trying to pass off overpopulation as a problem, and whose Catholic Church won’t accept contraceptives as a means of containg the overpopulation problem.
Emo brings about a sorrowful and hopeless mindset. Whether it be subjective or not, emo brings about a culture of hapless beings trying to pass off their lives as a miserable excuse of self pity and laziness. Think about it. They’re just being emotional, yeah, that’s what they would say. But if our national heroes would see them now, the wrist-slitting youth, apathetic to the socio political situation the Philippines is facing today. They would probably wish that they shouldn’y have had done what they have done for us. “Kung alam ko lang na ganito din naman pala yung mangyayari…” Word for the emos? Think of the hungry people in Africa, and in every part of the world. They’re not emo, but they have the right to be.
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