tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21801830297740981912024-03-13T07:15:40.802+08:00Pending PassionsAll the things I've wanted to doUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger107125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-66908952993283508732023-01-24T10:50:00.001+08:002023-01-24T10:50:16.232+08:00Call for Help: Save This Blog (?)<p>Wouldn't you know it; just when I finally decided to start posting regularly, something weird is happening with Blogger.</p><p>It doesn't come as a surprise since I haven't heard anyone still talk about this platform in a <i>long</i> time, but I'm still low-key panicking. </p><p>So here's the sitch: I'm logged in using a Yahoo email. I used to just switch accounts to access my blog, but now it keeps logging in to the other Gmail account. And I have to use incognito now just to type this. Yes, I've invited the other Gmail account to post on this blog just to make sure I still have some sort of access to the posts, but even that one can't seem to find the blog. š</p><p>There. Now I'm not low-key panicking anymore. I'm just . . . sad.</p><p>Is it really time to go? What is keeping me here? I might need to drastically rethink my whole life.</p><p>Half-kidding.</p><p>We'll see, I guess.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-33373447437967380682023-01-17T10:23:00.003+08:002023-01-17T10:27:25.630+08:00Pending Passion: A Potential Review<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcsZxa5Sxb8Sd7kREkInmh-k_yBnfExvMh3v1VlHk7ubsPnQ_S3M22-cAYz1aYRAalSrZEJpW4jvV9p5IyP8cC6iAWhCoVB_TyFTjpfuODj1x5BRpYcW12zGzHqGtjTa60kzQ3MR42COldZJ5K-GIqv3ujXsJzx_fssYBWfNZdA6cTCncUNDoXHEAZw/s4624/20230110_152330.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4624" data-original-width="3468" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcsZxa5Sxb8Sd7kREkInmh-k_yBnfExvMh3v1VlHk7ubsPnQ_S3M22-cAYz1aYRAalSrZEJpW4jvV9p5IyP8cC6iAWhCoVB_TyFTjpfuODj1x5BRpYcW12zGzHqGtjTa60kzQ3MR42COldZJ5K-GIqv3ujXsJzx_fssYBWfNZdA6cTCncUNDoXHEAZw/w480-h640/20230110_152330.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>When I was, oh I don't know, 9 or 10, I went to ballet classes. I don't remember if it was during summer or actually within the school year, but I kept going until we "discovered" my scoliosis.<p></p><p>But this post is not about my scolio. (I do have another post ready to talk about it, but I need to edit it first because I wrote it angry haha.)</p><p>In one of our ballet recitals, I was awarded as the ballet student with the "Most Potential." I still have the sash in my old bedroom drawer, and I'm sure I can still find the picture of little me grinning with so much pride wearing that sash. For some reason, that sash has defined a significant portion of my life.</p><p>Fast forward to nowadays, I still sometimes hear people tell me "You have so much potential!" excitedly pointing out all the things I could do. And it triggers me. It's not that I don't like being told that; I actually super appreciate it because I at least know what steps to take next. It's just that, after all these years, I still have just that</p><p><i>potential.</i></p><p>Have I been sleeping since being awarded that sash? No. I <i>have</i> done some things to move that potential. And maybe I just keep getting more potential as I grow up and old. But the more I'm reminded that I have potential, the more I realize that it's still just potential.</p><p><i>potential energy </i>(noun)</p><blockquote><p>the energy possessed by a body by virtue of its position relative to others, stresses within itself, electric charge, and other factors.</p></blockquote><p>Are you still following? Good. Let's start moving this.</p><p>Right now, it's the beginning of 2023. During planner season (that's around October to December and sometimes up to January), I decided I needed to take a step up.</p><p>Hence the pic above and the declaration</p><p>I AM KINETIC</p><p>In my head, I want to start taking action. I want to start using all that potential energy to move and go where I'm supposed to go. Not just to keep all that at rest (with the probability of it exploding). I want to <i>do</i> something about it.</p><p>And I was <i>so</i> optimistic haha. It's now the third week of the first month of 2023. I have yet to start moving.</p><p><i>Au contraire</i></p><p>This first post of the year is the first step. Now that it's out, there's no stopping it. And it's going to keep reminding me to keep rolling ("rolling, rolling by the river" or---if you're younger---"rolling, rolling, rolling what").</p><p>So keep me accountable, and I'll keep you updated. I have a lot to tell you but they're all just inside the many (and I mean <i>many</i>) lists that I keep.</p><p> Here's to hoping for a Kinetic 2023!</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-81416455730322944982022-09-30T10:37:00.003+08:002022-09-30T10:39:26.262+08:00Short Story: The Missing Coffee<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrQLCqsRuA-TujVXygaZetZ4Tiprbdo-qUWOvxFiHyoQjQVS2bkznesbnPg2GDerFr_jPkw9irfGsX2GJYsYy94ZVUAaMxMld0SLQJcGTxKJTkcXAlRoX3sdyuB7wdhBu3si4xCgDnqddmnEJ8qkRP8uT96tJsCmqjsgpz5Dv09z8k71XjOfkS17zp0Q" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="858" data-original-width="644" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjrQLCqsRuA-TujVXygaZetZ4Tiprbdo-qUWOvxFiHyoQjQVS2bkznesbnPg2GDerFr_jPkw9irfGsX2GJYsYy94ZVUAaMxMld0SLQJcGTxKJTkcXAlRoX3sdyuB7wdhBu3si4xCgDnqddmnEJ8qkRP8uT96tJsCmqjsgpz5Dv09z8k71XjOfkS17zp0Q=w240-h320" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-family: inherit;">A few nights ago, I dreamt that we were eating at home. My coffee was waiting for me on the table when I had to go somewhere else to do something. I distinctly remember thinking, "I'll come back for my coffee."</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">But when I did---which is unusual because, as we know, we can't control dreams---my coffee was missing. Not on the table anymore. And I searched, and I searched, but it's gone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up. I considered it a bad dream. Where would my coffee go? Why would anyone, if anyone did, take my coffee? Why? I felt stressed and frustrated.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Until I remembered.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">In <i>Doctor Strange: Multiverse of Madness</i>, they said that your dreams are actually the lives of your parallel universe self.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">And, well, I felt better but also a little guilty.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because somewhere in an alternate, parallel universe, my other self lost her coffee. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">And I can't stop laughing at her. š</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">The end. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">PS I hope she finds her coffee.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-48127247508699984182021-01-05T17:37:00.000+08:002021-01-05T17:37:15.670+08:00Contagion<p style="text-align: justify;"> Almost a year ago, I woke up with the heavy feeling of what most of us were going through at that time. There was the burden of having to go about the day with the unusually highlighted reality of not knowing what the future holds. Of course, I am talking about the Coronavirus (Covid-19) and how, even as I write this today, we still don't know how this ends.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">That morning in May, I had been particularly concerned about the details of being asymptomatic. No, I didn't get the disease, but it hasn't stopped me from thinking what if I'm just asymptomatic. I had been thinking about what symptoms an asymptomatic would have to actually know they had the disease. How do you know if you're already contagious? Is it only through testing? Because for other diseases, at least you know you won't be passing on the disease after a certain time or a certain stage of the disease. When do you know you don't have it anymore? How do you know if you were part of the trail if, for example, you passed on the disease to someone who also was asymptomatic and he passed it on to someone who also became asymptomatic and so on until there was one who finally showed symptoms? By that time, does your disease disappear? Is there a time limit to you being asymptomatic, to you being contagious? </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That train of thought kept chugging around in my head that morning. What could we do if we were asymptomatic but we were already passing on the disease? Then I wondered, what if after passing on the disease, you will no longer have it? Was there a disease like that in the past? (Obviously, I did not search for an answer, so let me know if there is such a thing.) Once a person has it, he or she can pass it on just to get rid of it? If that were the case, especially now with Covid-19, maybe we can protect those who are old or immunocompromised. Maybe they can pass it on to someone healthier, who has a higher chance of survival. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Let's take that a step further, if the disease is "passable," maybe we can all pass it on to someone from our area and each area "representative" can pass it on to a designated person until only one person has the disease. That person most likely will be someone who's very healthy, who can withstand all that passed on disease (does it get worse or intensify the more viruses a person has?), or who has accepted his fate that he will die for the safety of the rest of humanity. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Then I remembered. Yes, there was a disease like this. This is familiar. My thoughts were not original. This already happened. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">A couple thousand years ago, there was a disease with a 100% mortality rate. Everyone who had it would die. They did what was expected of them in that case. There were measures in place. There were temporary precautions, like what we have now, wearing masks and washing hands. There were steps to be followed for temporary relief. But there was no cure yet. People waited for it and people died waiting. Until eventually, someone did what I just described in the previous paragraph. Someone decided to take all of that disease on himself so the rest of the world didn't have to suffer. So he did. He died because of it. And the rest of the world no longer needed to go through that pain.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">His name is Jesus.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The disease is sin.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">We're all supposed to die because of sin. It's a disease of humanity, something we cannot escape, and so are the consequences. "The wages of sin is death" (Romans 6:23). Everyone who sins will die; 100% mortality rate. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And we did our best. Sure. We tried to be good. We tried to <i>not</i> sin, but just like how a virus is so tiny yet if you get it you suffer, we got sin. We sinned. We have it. And worse, sometimes we even pass it on. Sinning is contagious. Meaning more will die because of it. And at some point, we couldn't do anything to stop it.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But God could. And He did. He sent the perfect sacrifice, the only person who could carry the burden of all that sin, the weight of the whole world and its future. Jesus. And He took that sin and carried it to the cross where He died in our place. Read that again: <i>He died in our place</i>. We were the ones supposed to suffer. We were the ones supposed to die because of that disease. But He took it to the grave. He took our place so we can live.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It's a big thing to think about. Someone, someone we don't even know, decided to take the ultimate consequence of <i>our</i> faults. And here's the bigger thing: He did it because He loves us. No bouquet of roses, no frequency of date nights, no amount of empty promises can ever compare to what He, Jesus, has done. He died so we wouldn't have to die, because He loves us. Let that sink in for a bit. Just for a bit because it doesn't end there.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">He lived. He lives.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Remember the condition I proposed for the designated sacrifice of the disease? Someone who was so healthy he would survive or someone who accepted the fact that he would die. Well, Jesus was both. He died. Yes. But then He lived. He rose from the grave, leaving that dreaded sin disease behind. No longer carrying that weight, He calls us to live too. To stop being so burdened with the not-enoughness of this world. To stop putting ourselves in unnecessary pain, unnecessary suffering because of unnecessary actions. He calls us to live the way our lives were planned, long before we even knew about Him, long before we even knew about our disease. And isn't that what we should be doing? To be so thankful that we offer our own lives to His will? Because let's face it, our lives, our free lives, free from the consequence of sin, was bought at a high cost. His life.</p><blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;"><span class="text 2Cor-5-13" id="en-NIV-28891" style="background-color: white; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px;">If we are āout of our mind,ā as some say, it is for God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 2Cor-5-14" id="en-NIV-28892" style="background-color: white; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px;">For Christās love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px;"> </span><span class="text 2Cor-5-15" id="en-NIV-28893" style="background-color: white; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px;">And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. (2 Corinthians 5:13-15)</span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;">So there. This life that we have was already bought. We live for Him. And though we don't understand, though all the pain and suffering and uncertainty of the future doesn't make sense, we know we're ultimately safe. If the one who bought us has the power to raise the dead, has the power to create everything beautiful, has the power to overcome anything, we can rest assured that our future is secure. And if you think that if this God has so much power, He can just end this pandemic or whatever bad thing we are going through, yes. Yes, He can. But who are we to say when or what He should do.</p><blockquote><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="text 1Cor-2-8" id="en-NIV-28403">None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.</span> <span class="text 1Cor-2-9" id="en-NIV-28404">However, as it is written:</span></p><div class="poetry top-05" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; min-width: 0px; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;"><p class="line" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-width: 0px;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;">āWhat no eye has seen,</div><span class="indent-1"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text 1Cor-2-9" style="position: relative;">what no ear has heard,</span></div></span><span class="text 1Cor-2-9" style="position: relative;"><div style="text-align: justify;">and what no human mind has conceivedāā</div></span><span class="indent-1"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-family: monospace; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text 1Cor-2-9" style="position: relative;">the things God has prepared for those who love himā</span></div></span><p></p></div><p class="first-line-none top-05" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-top: -0.5em; min-width: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="text 1Cor-2-10" id="en-NIV-28405">these are the things God has revealed to us by his Spirit.</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span class="text 1Cor-2-10">The Spirit searches all things, even the deep things of God. (1 Corinthians 2:8-10)</span></p></blockquote><p style="text-align: justify;">If you're still reading, praise God for you. Don't give up hope. Don't give up faith. I know times are hard. I cannot imagine what you're going through. But I know there is a great God who loves you and who wants to take care of you. Get to know Him. Find comfort in Him. Find answers in Him.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Personal Note: I've wanted to write this way back in May 2020. That one morning weighed so heavy in my heart that I couldn't sit down and write. I wanted to write it before I forget, but I also couldn't seem to find the will to write. I know it's confusing. I wanted to write it but didn't want to write. But I couldn't forget. So if you've been blessed by any of the words up there, praise God. And if you want to learn more about this God who has traded His own Son for us out of love, send me a message. Or comment below. Or find someone you can talk to. There has never been or will ever be a day like today. No other time when the urgency of your longing to know God is more relevant than right now. We don't want to think about it, but tomorrow may be too late.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-478342491260699862020-03-05T20:16:00.000+08:002020-03-05T20:17:33.166+08:00Kitchen Casualties: Corned Beef Sopas (without the sopas)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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And she's back! In the kitchen! Which is a rather strange place to be. But fret not, nothing has happened so far that is cause for concern.</div>
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Today on my comeback post, I present to you my first attempt at Corned Beef Sopas. Why am I posting about this and what prompted me to tell you what I did for this recipe instead of the creamy scrambled egg with marble potatoes I did last week? I have no idea. But it's safe to say that this is one of the more successful experiments I've done in the past couple of months.</div>
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So here we go.</div>
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For the original recipe, the one I attempted to follow, please check the <a href="https://www.createwithcream.ph/recipe/yummy-corned-beef-sopas" target="_blank">Yummy Corned Beef Sopas</a> from the Nestle site. It's really pretty simple. But I had to make it complicated because reasons.</div>
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Okay, so what I did and what I learned and things that went through my head while cooking this.</div>
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<li>Always check your available ingredients. I learned that elbow macaroni is different from salad macaroni. As you can see in the picture, I had salad macaroni. So I reasoned out that salad macaroni is basically elbow macaroni torn apart from its joint. Which I guess is debatable or totally wrong but pasta is pasta. (I'm sorry.)</li>
<li>Always check the quantity of your ingredients. For example, what is 1 tbsp of garlic? Is it 2 cloves of garlic? Three cloves of garlic? Three cloves of garlic after it is minced? What is sliced onion? How much onion should be sliced to fill a third of a cup? Do I squish it to fit? How sliced should it be considering the garlic (minced) and the onion (sliced) should be saut<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Ć©</span>d together? That means the garlic cooks a lot faster than the onion. What does a limp onion look like? If it requires a cup of corned beef, what if I have 260g of it? Why is it asking for just a half cup of cream from a 240mL pack? What do I do with the rest? I don't have a refrigerator. Can't I just pour the whole pack into the mix? These are the questions you need to ask yourself before you start the fire. Questions that I did ask myself but did not answer.</li>
<li>If you increase or decrease the quantity of an ingredient, you're going to have to do something about the other ingredients. For example, when I added the macaroni, it looked like it wasn't enough. So I added another cup. But I didn't add more water. Because pasta drinks a lot of water, hence this sopas is without soup. </li>
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<li>Do not be impatient. You want the water to boil so you intensify the heat. Now you add the macaroni and the water just disappears. Let it burn slowly. Feel the moment as the fire cooks the macaroni. Or just add water if you're in a hurry.</li>
<li>Last but not the least, if it's edible, eat it. It doesn't matter right now if it's not cooked exactly as written in the recipe or if it turns out unlike your expectation. The fact that you tried to cook and did not burn anything is a great achievement. Knowing that the food is cooked thoroughly and safely is a great achievement. Cooking your own dinner with the ingredients you currently have is a great achievement. You will improve in time. It takes practice after all. And one day, your sopas will look exactly like the one in the pictures or even better. </li>
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My actual recipe:</div>
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1 tbsp cooking oil<br />
1 tbsp minced garlic<br />
Ā¼ cup sliced onion<br />
260g cup corned beef<br />
1 sachet 8g MAGGI MAGIC SARAPĀ®<br />
4 cups water<br />
2 cups salad macaroni<br />
1/3 cup diced carrots<br />
3/4 cup Nestle All-Purpose Cream</div>
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<br /></div>
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So I just realized that I actually needed 1/4 cup sliced onion haha not 1/3. Oh well. Still edible to me.<br />
<br />
See you next time on Kitchen Casualties.<br />
<br />
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PS<br />
What do I do with the rest of the cream? Will it spoil overnight? Do I have to finish eating all of this tonight? Does it really need to be refrigerated? Why do I have so many questions?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-748306182291896702018-05-09T23:04:00.002+08:002018-05-09T23:04:50.071+08:00Kitchen Casualties: Things I Know I Did WrongAnd we're back in the kitchen (and on this blog) after a more or less three-year hiatus on cooking/wreaking havoc/playing with food (which we should never do, no).<br />
<br />
Tonight's victim is a well-loved dish that people still find hard to identify: the afritada.<br />
<br />
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Tadah.<br />
<br />
As anyone would easily notice, it does not look much like an afritada. But it is. You know why? Because the ready-mix sauce I poured on it said so.<br />
<br />
So here we go with what went wrong.<br />
<br />
First and foremost, I bought adobo cuts. It's not technically wrong, but it does deviate from the normal afritada.<br />
<br />
Second, I did not buy Baguio beans or green peas. Honestly, it was just because my basket was too heavy already to go get more greens. (Excuses.)<br />
<br />
Third, the instructions said "potatoes, in chunks." In my mind I was thinking of large cubes. In reality, I had diced those taters. And the carrots suffered the same fate.<br />
<br />
Fourth, stir-fry. I Googled afritada. I Googled the sauce. I Googled the ingredients. What I didn't research was what exactly stir-fry meant. I guess I just assumed I knew. I did know. But reinforcements always help. So when I finally asked what stir-fry was, I found that it meant frying using very little oil. The "very little oil" part? That's where it all went downhill.<br />
<br />
The potatoes took, like, twenty minutes to "stir-fry both sides until light brown." (Mind you, I was using an electric stove.) They didn't even turn brown I think. Or maybe I was getting colorblind because I was hungry and I haven't even started step 2.<br />
<br />
Fifth, stir-fry the chicken in the same pan until light brown. That took me about thirty minutes to an hour. Because it just wasn't getting cooked. And I've decided to prefer having burnt chicken than uncooked chicken. So there. Fried chicken in afritada.<br />
<br />
Sixth, simmer. I've cooked soup before and that had "simmer" in the instructions, but I've obviously never understood what it was. Simmer meant to boil then lower the heat but not to turn it off. What I did? I just turned it off and waited twenty minutes as instructed. Smart move.<br />
<br />
Seventh, keeping the whole thing cooking in a pan that already had burnt potatoes sticking at the bottom. Now it tastes weird. Although the burn parts look like pepper so that'll do, I guess.<br />
<br />
Eighth, me eating it. Well, there's no one I'd rather put in harm's way when it comes to cooking except me. Because a little Yakult, a little Coke, a little Lormide, and I'm good. But me eating this afritada is, well, a risk I probably shouldn't take (although I will because it's edible and cooked for sure but not share-worthy . . . and I don't like wasting food).<br />
<br />
And there you have it. Eight things I know I did wrong as I tried my hand again in the kitchen. Good thing I'm still alive now after eating it so I can tell the tale.<br />
<br />
Fair warning to the rest of the world: do not follow me. š<br />
<br />
That's it. Happy reading and cooking amd eating!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-70596326228686477722017-03-05T17:45:00.000+08:002017-03-05T17:45:03.755+08:00I Am Okay"Good morning," she says.<br />
<br />
They greet her well enough. They start talking. They start sharing. They start gossiping.<br />
<br />
"Good morning," she says.<br />
<br />
"How are you?" they ask.<br />
<br />
"I am okay," she says.<br />
<br />
They talk. They share lives. They share new information. They leave and continue with their day.<br />
<br />
"Good morning," she says.<br />
<br />
They do it all over again. Day after day, they greet and talk and everything's fine until it's not. And then they wonder.<br />
<br />
"I am okay," she says. She talks about her day, about the movie she just finished watching, about the new song she was listening to. She talks about the person in the next cube. She asks about her workmate's family. She asks about her friend's friend. She asks about the weather.<br />
<br />
They talk. It's all normal. They're all okay. Until they're not.<br />
<br />
"Good morning," they say. But she doesn't answer.<br />
<br />
"I am okay." She smiles. Her smile, they assume, was her answer. Her smile, they assume, meant she was okay.<br />
<br />
She's not.<br />
<br />
"Good morning." Help me.<br />
<br />
Look at me. Really look at me. Help me. Save me from this smile. Save me from this cry. Save me from this facade. Look at me. Ask me how I really am. Or don't ask me how I really am. How will you know? How can you not know? I am not okay.<br />
<br />
I am searching for someone to see beyond me. See beyond my smile and find me. Find me in my corner. Find me in the shadows of the life that has suddenly overwhelmed me. Look for me. Find me. I am right here.<br />
<br />
I hide behind curtains of routine. I hide behind witty lines and sincere laughter. Sincere laughter that hurts. Sincere laughter that burns with tears. I hide behind truth because no one asks beyond the truth. No one asks for the truth.<br />
<br />
My life is shattered. My path is dark. My hope is missing. Help me look for it. Help me feel secure. Help me know that I can move on from this. That I can move from this. That there is a reason to move at all.<br />
<br />
Ask me how I really am. Wait for me to say I'm not okay. Wait for me to pour my heart out to you. Don't be afraid. I won't need you to listen for long. I won't need you to help me with practical advice. I won't need you to do anything but ask. Really ask. Really see me.<br />
<br />
I am not okay.<br />
<br />
"Good morning," she says.<br />
<br />
They talk. She smiles. They go on with their lives.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
How many more people do we need to see broken before we realize that our genuine fellowship is not at all genuine? How many more people do we need to see walking away before we realize that we are not addressing the deeper issue? How many more people do we need to find "okay" before we realize that they are not?<br />
<br />
Almost every day, we ask at least one person how they are. Almost every day, we hear the same answer and we don't follow up.<br />
<br />
"I'm okay."<br />
<br />
Are you really?<br />
<br />
For the one asking:<br />
Are you so easily satisfied with an "I'm okay" answer? Are you so easily convinced that life is good and life is okay for the other person? Granted, life may be doing well for the other person, but okay is not a good enough answer. Why leave the question with that answer? Why jump into a different topic when "How are you?" is a deep enough dive into another person's life to quench any other topic? Why stop at "I'm okay" when okay has never been true?<br />
<br />
For the one asked:<br />
Tell the truth. Be honest. Don't be afraid. People will listen.<br />
<br />
For the one asking:<br />
Listen.<br />
<br />
How can we help if we don't know you need help? How can you be helped if you don't ask for help? How can we all be truly and sincerely "okay"?<br />
<br />
One day. A world with genuine people. One day. Someday.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-19092752487615976182017-01-10T20:35:00.002+08:002017-01-10T20:35:50.709+08:00While Waiting<b>Overthinking dude's perspective</b><br />
<br />
I found her there, by the fountain where most couples and noisy teenagers hang out. She was alone, looking around, not minding anyone. She smiled occasionally to herself, probably remembering something funny. I couldn't help myself then.<br />
<br />
I started to approach her. My heart was pounding. I've never done this before. Would she think I'm a stalker? Would she think I'm weird? Would she run away and report me to the police? I checked myself quickly. I was dressed okay, decent enough.<br />
<br />
Few steps left and she turned and stared right at me, her smile frozen but her eyes alive. I stared back at her but looked down briefly, trying not to be rude. But when I looked up, she was still looking at me. Her face filled with changing micro-expressions. She seemed to be thinking of a million things. I was thinking of only one.<br />
<br />
"Hi." I waved at her slightly. She broke her stare and looked down, gently laughing at herself. "What's funny?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"Nothing." She smiled.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
<b>What went on in her head</b><br />
<br />
Hmm where are they? I'm hungry. Where should I eat? Not chicken again. I need to eat healthy. Fruits. Just fruits? I'll be hungry before I go to sleep. But I have cereal at home, so I guess that's okay. But fruits are expensive. How about rice. Rice with chicken? Budget friendly. No, rice with beef. Oh ramen. Ramen seems nice right now. But not in my budget. Where can I buy cheap ramen? Hmm. Value meal 4 then? But it doesn't keep me full for long. What's this guy doing? Why is he staring at me? He looks familiar. Where did I see him before? Oh at the dimsum. Hmm dimsum. I'll just buy juice instead of soft drinks. Why is he still staring at me? Do I really look hungry? I'm just hungry, dude. Stop staring at me. Oh wait, I'm staring at him too. Oops. I like his jacket though. I'll probably just buy nuggets.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
This is what happens when you make me wait when I already have to go home. :)<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-85508472747016469512016-12-06T09:04:00.000+08:002016-12-06T09:04:35.295+08:00Time to Let GoWe must let go of time. Time always moves forward. It does not wait for anyone. Some people say they live in the moment, but moments stay in the past. Time does not stop for moments. Time keeps moving on, and we can never keep time or bring it back. When time leaves, it leaves, and you will never have the same time again.<br />
<br />
We must let go of time because the more we hold on to it, the farther we are to it. We think we're holding on to time, but we're only holding on to the past---a time that has already left us. It is only the present once, and every day of our lives become the past.<br />
<br />
We must let go of time because in the end we all run out of time.<br />
<br />
Some things we just can never bring back.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Woke up and found my watch stuck at 4:44 (but technically it was 4:14 because my watch is 30 minutes advance).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-22627194386848255422016-11-26T14:22:00.000+08:002016-11-26T14:22:07.168+08:00You've Already Said Good-byeIt started before it ended<br />
When the news broke before the waves reached the shore<br />
When the tears never fell and the words never spoken<br />
But the lives go on as if good-bye has been spent<br />
<br />
It started before it ended<br />
Though I'm still here, it's as if I'm not<br />
Though posts still exist and likes still persist<br />
It's as if the distance has already separated us<br />
<br />
It started before it ended<br />
When the laughter burns and the conversations flood<br />
But the moments are fleeting and the nights are longer<br />
And the songs are louder in the silence<br />
<br />
It started before it ended<br />
When the routine is broken and built<br />
When the habits and promises are safe in the treasure chest of time<br />
In the forgetfulness and fickle memory of time<br />
<br />
It started before it ended<br />
When the hellos are empty and the small talk is all there will ever be<br />
And the good-byes have finally been said<br />
As if good-byes were meant by saying hello<br />
As if good-bye was what was meant to be said from the beginning<br />
<br />
It started before it ended<br />
You've already said good-bye<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
I told you my #NaNoWriMo discipline is not to be trusted. Now it's almost December! Oh well.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-69428412686013959112016-11-07T17:15:00.000+08:002016-11-07T17:15:18.856+08:00Halfway into DarknessHalfway into darkness, I found myself grasping. The edges of the pictures, the faces, the brightness fading. The heaviness of darkness blanketed my head, embracing my skull with the warmth of suffocation. It was daunting. It was undeniable. It was irresistible.<br />
<br />
Halfway into darkness, my eyes could no longer carry the burden of seeing. I fought. I fought as valiantly as any knight would against the dragon breathing fire. But my dragon breathed darkness. My eyes were swallowed slowly into oblivion, drowning, now seeing, now blinded.<br />
<br />
Halfway into darkness, I heard the rush of life. The cries of faceless people, identities never shared. I felt their hurry, their eagerness to move on, as if the darkness never threatened them---as if I were the only one engulfed by it.<br />
<br />
Halfway into darkness, I could not fight. My mind felt numb, my body paralyzed but for fleeting jolts of resistance. I dared and braved the ancient paths of those who tried and failed but lived to tell the tales---the stories of darkness winning in and over them. Hope of change sucked out of freedom.<br />
<br />
Halfway into darkness, I slipped and fell and went tumbling into the comfort of surrender.<br />
<br />
Halfway into darkness, I slipped and fell asleep.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Because oh my I fell asleep in the jeepney again. O_O<br />
<br />
#NaNoWriMo<br />
<br />
I'm not counting days anymore. hahaUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-6080593475433388322016-11-03T19:24:00.000+08:002016-11-03T19:24:39.756+08:00Of Melancholic MusicOut of the darkness, the music came. Calling, capturing those who dared to listen. Like sirens to the sailor lost at sea, the music allured the people, except me.<br />
<br />
It didn't matter what song it played, what movement it was, which instrument it used. It didn't matter that after every song came the devastating emptiness of silence. I knew it would come again, and with its return, the cries of longing unfulfilled.<br />
<br />
The strings softly strummed sang an intro to the sun. The drums beat deaf the wooden floor below. The keys depressed rang deep beyond the walls. The walls could not contain it---the walls of human hopes.<br />
<br />
I cast aside desire, knowing well the pull of want. The voices call me crazy to give up and take a stand. The music, the instruments, the humming, and the songs, they were of no use outside. They held no allure, no symphony, no harmony to a rider of a broken vessel.<br />
<br />
And yet.<br />
<br />
The songs came again, inching, whispering to me. The strings that sang to the sun struck through my restless soul. The drums that beat the floor punctuated every heartbeat. And the voices called me crazy not to see that the music from which escape I wanted was the music within me.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Day 2 (because November 1 was a holiday :p )<br />
"She never wanted to hold a musical instrument ever again" would be too obvious.<br />
NaNoWriMo, here we go.<br />
Also, oh my, it doesn't rhyme! (Cries of despair)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-32896410133455195242016-11-02T17:38:00.002+08:002016-11-02T17:39:09.937+08:00Insomnia, Her Excuse11:00 p.m.<br />
She lies on the bed and stretches. The bed sheet crumples under her and the pillow flattens, forcing her to fold it just to make it appear plump. She stares at the ceiling and decides to clean up the cobwebs in the morning. Maybe. She waits for sleep to come. The light remains on.<br />
<br />
Midnight<br />
She turns the light off.<br />
<br />
1:00 a.m.<br />
She turns the light on and decides to brush her teeth. She considers reading until she falls asleep, but her eyes complain. Her left eye fights to keep closed in the sudden brightness. She weaves around the mess that is her room, brushes her teeth, then goes back to bed. She stares at the ceiling again.<br />
<br />
2:00 a.m.<br />
She watches a cartoon series. She goes through four or five episodes when the Internet stops her. The video fails to buffer, and she gives up refreshing the browser. She decides to read a few chapters of a book she considers boring, hoping to fall asleep out of boredom. She finishes one chapter.<br />
<br />
3:00 a.m.<br />
The light is still on. She's still staring at the ceiling, thinking of red flags and wrong choices. Her mind fills with questions and excuses. The parade of ideas flock and bottleneck until she shakes them out. She rolls around in bed, trying to find a comfortable position. She decides to do stretches, hoping to tire herself. She turns the light off and stares at the darkness, willing it to swallow her until it was time to face daylight again.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
3:00 p.m. the previous day<br />
She drinks coffee.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
It's NaNoWriMo again! Let's see how long I can keep this up this time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-56073502051163907552016-04-13T11:17:00.003+08:002016-09-28T11:25:18.266+08:00Pansina Pud Ko OiDidto sa kilid sa dalan<br />
Kung asa ko pirmi nag-atang ug sakyanan<br />
Didto tika una nakita<br />
Nagtindog ug nagtanga-tanga<br />
<br />
Didto sa kilid sa dalan<br />
Nipara kog jeep padung trabaho<br />
Nakihuot ko sa mga galinkod<br />
Maong ako kay nakurat sa akong pagtalikod<br />
<br />
Hala ka, kay nisakay man pud ka<br />
Nakihuot pud ka sa jeep nga wala na gyuy lugar<br />
Ug sa tanang pwede nimo suksukan<br />
Didto pa jud ka sa akong tapad niplastar<br />
<br />
Pansina pud ko oi<br />
Pirting humota ra ba nimo<br />
Di parehas sa uban nga buntag sayo pa<br />
Bahog singot na<br />
<br />
Pansina pud ko oi<br />
Ka-hamis ra ba jud sa imong braso<br />
Nga ga-sigeg bangga-bangga sa akong braso<br />
<br />
Pansina pud ko oi<br />
Kabalo ko gwapo ra kaau ka para nako<br />
Pero bisan na<br />
Pansina pud ko oi<br />
<br />
Didto sa unahan sa may iskina<br />
Nanganaog ang mga tawo<br />
Ug ang nabilin kay kita na lang duha<br />
<br />
Didto sa unahan sa pagliko sa jeep<br />
Nilingi ka sa ako ug ikaw kay ningisi<br />
<br />
Haskang lipaya gyud nako<br />
Napansin na jud ko<br />
Di na kinahanglan mag-iring-iring<br />
Ug magpaduding<br />
<br />
Gipansin ko nimo<br />
Ug bisan bakante na ang jeep<br />
Gitaparan gihapon ko nimo<br />
Makalanay imong pagtan-aw kanako<br />
Makalanay ug maka in love sangatanan<br />
<br />
Gipansin ko nimo ug gitutukan<br />
Gitutukan ug kutsilyo ug ni-ingon nga<br />
ihatag nako kanimo ang tanan<br />
Tanan? Tanan tanan jud?<br />
Sadihang gikuha na nimo ang akoang bag<br />
Wa man lang jud ka nilingi ug usab<br />
<br />
Pansina pud ko oi<br />
Ikawng kawatan<br />
Pansina pud nga gikawat nimo di lang akoang bag<br />
Apil pa akoang kasingkasing<br />
<br />
<br />
Charmos ginamos. :p<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-47267364406143761922016-02-29T17:43:00.001+08:002016-02-29T19:51:23.504+08:00It's What Love DoesIt's what love does<br />
<br />
When it suddenly calls and the randomness of it catches you off guard<br />
When its words slur and its voice fades and it loses itself for a while<br />
When the moment fills with tension and it makes you realize how unprepared you are<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
When you see it and wonder if it truly exists or you may just be making things up<br />
When you listen to it taking control of the conversation because you can't find your voice to respond to it<br />
When the moment passes and you find yourself wondering if the silence was what was best<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
It asks how you are and listens to your answer<br />
It wakes you up in the morning to tell you that you are thought of, you are remembered<br />
It creeps into your memories and your dreams and makes your reality, for the first time, better than your fantasy<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
When it decides that who you are today is not defined by who you were before<br />
When it forgives you of the most damaging of faults and tells you that it won't change<br />
Love won't change<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
When it stretches its arms and waits for you to see, waits for you to run into it<br />
When it tells you to talk about everything and nothing<br />
When it listens even to the deepest longings of your heart even when these longings do not involve love<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
It gives you the best without asking for anything<br />
But you<br />
It gives you its whole self and wants nothing more than to make you happy<br />
It gives its life knowing you may not even want it<br />
<br />
But that's what love did<br />
<br />
Love came and came for you<br />
Love wanted the best for you<br />
Love gave up everything for you<br />
<br />
Love listened<br />
Love learned<br />
Who you are<br />
What you've done<br />
Where you've been<br />
Who you've been with<br />
What happened to you<br />
Yet love loved you<br />
<br />
Love loved you<br />
Love loves you still<br />
<br />
This is what love does<br />
<br />
It loves without conditions<br />
It gives without expectations<br />
It lives to give you life<br />
It stays to keep you alive<br />
<br />
It's what love does<br />
<br />
When it suddenly calls and the randomness of it catches you off guard<br />
But you recover and you realize<br />
You love love too<br />
<br />
That's what love does.<br />
<br />
1 John 4:8<br />
John 3:16<br />
John 15:13<br />
Romans 5:8Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-86737608855335048062016-01-16T16:14:00.002+08:002016-01-16T16:14:21.201+08:00Do You Ever Really Know?When asked how much I know a person, there are a couple of things that run around in my head.<br />
<br />
I think you never really stop knowing a person. I think you can never really know a person <i>enough</i>. And it's funny and sad that we think we know people so well that we can be comfortable with just being with them, with just being who we really are with them. I've thought that would be okay before, but when you lose that trust with someone once, you can't really get it back without thinking if all those years were just tolerance.<br />
<br />
Anyway, I've found that it's very rare to find people whom you can truly talk with. There are people you can have long meaningful conversations with, and there are people who just chat, scraping the top of the iceberg, the superficial fillers, until one gives up and decides to waste time elsewhere. I think it then matters what you mean by knowing a person because you can say that you know a person well by the many meaningless things you've talked about but you can't say you know who the person is without the layers of ever-changing information.<br />
<br />
I've heard before that even when you're married, you still learn things about your spouse that never came up when you were still single. Even when you've been friends for years, there are still things that you never really know about the person. So why do we still ask if we know someone enough?<br />
<br />
How do you know? How do you really know a person "enough" that you can say you can trust that person with, say, your life?<br />
<br />
Matters of consequence.<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-42927362122535102712016-01-14T16:21:00.000+08:002016-01-14T16:21:25.185+08:00Pseudo Deja VuPseudo Deja Vu<br />
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Pseudo Deja Vu<br />
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I live fairly near to this quaint food place (I don't know if I should call it a restaurant) where I am writing this post. In the few minutes that it took for me to walk here, I realized that I was forcing deja vu.<br />
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We all know that deja vu is "the illusion of remembering scenes and events when experienced for the first time." It's the feeling that you've seen something happen that way before.<br />
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Well, pseudo deja vu is, I believe, when you force it. I was forcing deja vu when I walked here because it's exactly what I did the day before. Pseudo or forced deja vu is doing something exactly the way you did it before to achieve the feeling of deja vu. It's what you do when you stalk or when you want to be stalked: you stick to a schedule, a routine, and do it the same way every single time.<br />
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But this post is not going to be about stalking. No. I am going to talk about the many times that we force deja vu.<br />
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Two quotations come to mind when I think of this.<br />
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The first is from Albert Einstein's definition of insanity: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."<br />
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The other is from Thomas Edison: "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work."<br />
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I understand that these two are totally different, but bear with me on this one.<br />
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Sometimes we do things even when we know they won't work. Sometimes we do things even though we know it's wrong. We convince ourselves that things will turn out differently, but who are we kidding, really? When you do the same thing over and again, it's going to end up the same as it ended up the last time. We become like dogs chasing their own tails. It's an endless cycle of, well, that's just it. It's a cycle.<br />
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But why do we do it? Do we hope for change? Of course we do. We hope things become different. But even more, we hope to feel that same feeling we felt the last time (so many feels). Someone once asked, "When was the last time you did something for the first time?" And someone also gave the sentiment that "I wish I could forget I read this book before so I could read it again as if it were my first time." Do we secretly hope that we could undo the past and make it the first time?<br />
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Do we secretly not want to deja vu (yes, I used it as a verb :p)? I don't know where this post is heading, but I do know that sometimes we are so caught up in the before that the after becomes inconsequential. We live in the past and long for the future that we are hardly ever present. Sure, when you live in this world for too long, everything seems to become familiar, but it's not exactly the same.<br />
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So it's your call if you want to pseudo deja vu. It's your call if you want to do the same thing over and again without changing anything. You can choose to be insanity or you can choose to be the 10,001st way that actually worked. (But come on, you want to go all the way to 10,000 before you change?)<br />
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In <i>Inception</i>, Leo (because I'm too lazy to search his character's name) had this spinning top that let him know if he was in the real world or not. My spinning top that reminds me that this is only a pseudo deja vu is that I came here a couple of minutes later than I did yesterday, did not order the same thing, and actually wrote a post. So it's only a pseudo deja vu. Nothing is ever really the same.<br />
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Pseudo Deja Vu<br />
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Pseudo Deja Vu<br />
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Pseudo Deja Vu<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">PS I believe I don't make sense right now. :p</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-16759713006099616192015-12-28T13:05:00.000+08:002015-12-28T14:30:59.312+08:003 Things to Do on a Road Trip to Pagudpud<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">This post may also be titled "How to Survive an Almost 12-Hour Road Trip (that Started at 1 a.m.)," but that would be too descriptive (and may or may not drive you away from reading this post). Also a fair warning, expect a lot of parenthetical comments (because they're the words that actually matter haha).</span></div>
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Christmas for some people is spent with family in their homes, in front of the TV, eating Christmas dinner. This was also our usual celebration, but this year, we decided to shake things up with a road trip to Pagudpud.<br>
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Now for anyone who knows anything about traveling and road trips amd Philippine geography, a road trip to Pagudpud (with all the rest stops and necessary traffic delays) would take about twelve hours.<br>
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Here's a map.<br>
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See, how lousy I am at pictures haha.<br>
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Anyway to pass the time, here's what you can do (because this was what I did).<div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div>1. <span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">Sleep. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;"><br></span></div><div><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue Light', HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif;">As Ms. Universe 2014 advised Ms. Universe 2015 during her final walk, "Sleep if you can." I took that advice as if I were the girl she was talking to and spent most of the trip asleep. You can't blame me (or yourself if you decide to also do this). The trip started at one in the morning and we didn't sleep the night before. Of course sitting in a moving vehicle would lull me to sleep (I can practically sleep anywhere). </span></div><div><font face="Helvetica Neue Light, HelveticaNeue-Light, helvetica, arial, sans-serif"><br></font><div>This is also when I finally appreciated the existence of backseat seat belts. Once I was strapped on, the only risk I was posing to my sleepy self would be banging my head on the window (of course I'm in the window seat, duh). </div>
<div><br></div><div>Sleeping on a dawn road trip, you don't really miss much. You just have to make sure you're a bit awake when the sum rises so you can catch the colors of a newly woken world. </div><div><br></div><div>But of course if you're the driver (or the driver's navigator or the backseat driver or just a driver), you can skip this because you're not allowed to sleep. Keeping you, Mr. Driver, awake can be a challenge and a totally different post because I don't want to talk about that right now.</div><div><br></div><div>What I do want to tell you is another thing you can do on the road trip.</div><div><br></div><div>2. Eat.</div><div><br></div><div>This is important because we all have to feed ourselves at some point. And riding. Car is <i>very</i> exhausting. So every time someone offers food, take it. (It's also kinda rude to refuse an offer hihi.) </div><div><br></div><div>This was kinda what we did, and I tell you, it was the unhealthiest trip I have ever been. This trip introduced me to the awesome package that is the Weeshee Bag.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJrSAUL0lPg/VoDLr8gWNFI/AAAAAAAAAug/VNOfbLsi1n0/s640/blogger-image-449355620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-OJrSAUL0lPg/VoDLr8gWNFI/AAAAAAAAAug/VNOfbLsi1n0/s640/blogger-image-449355620.jpg"></a></div>Photo taken from Oishi.com.ph (I think). </div><div><br></div><div>It's this bag full of junk food goodness that can make the kid inside fill with glee and your kidneys and uric aside cry in disappointment (but who cares, really). </div><div><br></div><div>We consumed most of its contents in more or less just a few hours (because we had to sleep in between eating---that's an important part of eating during a road trip). I can't say I regretted the snack food because I really don't regret it. Hihi. </div><div><br></div><div>But if you get a chance to actually plan your trip snacks, you might want to include something healthy . . . Like hot dogs and marshmallows. Or maybe some fruits. That would be great too.</div><div><br></div><div>And last but not really because there are so many possibilities:</div><div><br></div><div>3. Watch Scorpion.</div><div><br></div><div>One of the advantages of being in an Isuzu MUX is a built-in TV. And when the passengers come prepared, there is bound to be a TV series in their possession. On this trip, it was Scorpion.</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ug_p_pQrRPs/VoDS9hDZPLI/AAAAAAAAAuw/aFqdpJKyk2Y/s640/blogger-image-2058004766.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ug_p_pQrRPs/VoDS9hDZPLI/AAAAAAAAAuw/aFqdpJKyk2Y/s640/blogger-image-2058004766.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div>It's a case-solving series with highly intellectual characters and is inspired by the true story of Walter O'Brien (who says he has an IQ of 197). It's kind of Mr. Robot working in CSI with the nerdiness of Fringe and Flash and all them other case-solving series with nerds. Needless to say (but I'm still going to say it), I was hooked. Science and fun characters, what's not to love. I mean, a control freak genius, an OC human calculator, a mechanical prodigee, a narcissist behaviorist, an agent (really just an agent), and a normal person who gets to keep the balance of the team equals, well, Scorpion. (As you can see, I am also very lousy at promoting things I like.)</div><div><br></div><div>What's great about the show is that it's fast-paced and witty. The science stuff doesn't drown the normal person but also isn't dumbed down for the nerds (I am using this word as a compliment, okay). In fact, I was amused that one experiment they did was just aired on National Geographic, which means the creators of the show (and I guess every other science-y show in the world) really did their research. Really, just watch.</div><div><br></div><div>Anyway, so during the round trip of the road trip, I think we finished ten or thirteen.</div><div><br></div><div><i>But</i> (and I am saying this with emphasis) if you are prone to motion sickness and your eyes make you dizzy and naseous when you watch TV or read inside a moving vehicle, I do not recommend you watch this during a road trip. After a couple of episodes, my head hurt and I wanted to vomit, and I found myself fighting the urge to still watch the show (as in my left eye was closed but my right eye was still peeking). But of course, it's your call.</div><div><br></div><div>And there! My three things to do during a twelve-hour road trip. Hit repeat and you are good to go. Sure, there are other things you can do and I can suggest so much more, but for this trip, these three things worked for me.</div><div><br></div><div>I hope it works for you too.</div><div><br></div><div>Follow-up posts on the road trip coming soon. Happy New Year, everyone!</div><br>
1</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-75436146551763111722015-09-08T00:24:00.001+08:002015-09-08T00:24:20.175+08:00Blank Pages<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">This is how I #hugot. Also, this gives you an idea of what I'm really thinking about sometimes when I'm staring at my work but not actually working. Only sometimes. :)</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">It was still early. We talked about meeting up today, but I didn't think he'd be here at this time. I rubbed the sleep off my eyes and smiled at him as he came through the door.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Good morning," he said.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Good morning," I replied. "So early?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"I wanted to watch the sunrise with you."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">He hugged me. I went back to my room to change while he took his place on the living room couch. When I got ready, we walked to the beach.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">It was still dark. We held hands while walking. My other hand was tucked inside my jacket pocket, keeping it warm in the strong breeze of the sea. His other hand was in his jacket pocket, probably keeping it warm too. We were silent, happy with each other's presence. We found the rock that protruded from the small hill a ways from the shore. It was the perfect sitting place to view the sunrise. I snuggled up to him, and he wrapped his arms around me, resting his chin on my head. Then we waited.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">The sunrise was beautiful. He wasn't talking much. I didn't intend to break the silence.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">It was only a few steps from my house. He stopped walking and pulled me gently to where the sea kissed the shore.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Hey, is everything okay?" I asked.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Yeah. I just . . . I'm not ready to let you go yet."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">I smiled. He used words like this when he had something important to say.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"It's okay. Let's just stick around for a while."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"No, I meant I'm not ready to let you go at all."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">At that he pulled out his hand from his pocket and showed me a ring. A ring that meant what I thought it meant but something I didn't want to believe. He knelt in front of me and took my hand like everyone does in the movies and some people do in real life.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"I don't know if I'll ever want to let you go because right now all I want is to be with you forever. I know this sounds selfish and completely disorganized, but I love you. If it is selfish to want you, then I am selfish, but that's what I think love does. It keeps you wanting to keep the people you love with you. So please, let me be the most selfish man in the world, and be mine forever. Will you marry me?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">He stared at me. I stared at him. His hand was poised to slip on the ring into my finger. I stepped back.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">It was too soon. I took another step back. I saw the dread flash in his eyes, then the confusion. Finally, hurt. I didn't say anything. I took off and ran into the house, not even bothering to close the door. My mind was reeling.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">He couldn't just ask me to marry him. I had to escape. I had to leave. He didn't deserve this.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">His footsteps creaked on the floorboards as he followed me into the kitchen.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"What are you doing?" he asked. "What's wrong now? Don't you love me?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">I paced and pulled on my hair, wanting to rip them off. "I have to leave."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"What? Why?" He walked toward me. "Why are you doing this?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"I can't marry you," I said.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">He clenched his fists and set his jaw. He was holding himself in. He was about to explode.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Why are you so afraid of admitting it?" he seethed.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"What?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"You don't want to marry me, not </span><i style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">can't</i><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">. You don't know if you love me."</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"I love you," I said, looking at him and trying to keep still. I did love him.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"Then you're just afraid of sharing your life?"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">I didn't have an answer.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">"You're a coward! You make people fall in love with you then you leave them bleeding. You're too afraid to get hurt that you don't care if you hurt other people. You are a coward!"</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">I turned away, finally letting the tears roll uncontrollably down my face. He was right. I sank to the floor and hugged my knees and just cried. I didn't care if it was an immature response to what he said. I was too tired of running away. Maybe this time I could just let the pain rip me to shreds.</span><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><br style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;" /><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">I expected him to leave, but I felt him sit beside me. Not touching me but very much there. He was hugging his knees too.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;">(May 29, 2014)</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; line-height: 20.79px;">Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The events in this story are purely from my imagination. This has never happened to me in real life, nor do I wish or plan for this to happen. I don't live near the beach. :p</span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-75311195444120396132015-08-13T01:31:00.000+08:002015-08-13T01:32:18.341+08:00Note to SelfAs I count down to the end of this quarter-life crisis, I look back and realize how (it's taking me some time to think of a word to describe how) the past year was. I guess the word I'm really looking for is <i>inconsistent</i>, but maybe <i>spontaneous</i> can do a better job at making sense of this post.<br />
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So because I felt a bit spontaneous after the "surprise," here's my note to self.<br />
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Part 1<br />
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The next time, if there is a next time, your friends surprise you by bringing balloons and party hats and a cake and some poppers while they're singing "Happy Birthday" in a room full of other people, forget yourself. Turn around and look at them. <i>Really</i> look at them. You may not get a second chance. Look at how they walk toward you, smiling, singing, like fairies carrying gifts of happiness with their bouncing steps. (I really wish you had looked so you'd have a better description of what happened.) Look at their faces and remember that moment. Remember how you feel. Take notice of how you suddenly realize that these are your friends. These are the people who make this world bearable. They are your family. Look around. Look at the people in the room. Listen to their voices as they join in the singing. Appreciate them. Notice their smiles. Notice their existence. Notice that they are your friends too. Take a deep breath. Don't be afraid to cry. Let it sink in. You are not alone.<br />
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There will be no pictures in this note. You will not see what happened when it happened, but you will not need to. The pictures are static, the moments frozen on the page. They linger, and they do not fade. But they lose their value. Somehow, in the fleetingness of memories, you will find their importance, their significance. Somehow you will realize that these memories, which may someday fade, become special because of the idea of losing them, of someday finding out they cease to exist. These memories.<br />
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You don't need the pictures. You have them all in your memories. You have them all in your heart. You know how special the people are to you. You know how they risked the surprise. They don't know it but when they started walking toward you, your world shifted. You saw clearer. You saw them. You <i>really</i> saw them. Your friends.<br />
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The next time people surprise you, look at them. <i>Really</i> look at them.<br />
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You will realize someday that it will be like looking at the groom as his bride walks down the aisle. It will be like looking at the parents as their child receives the certificate of graduation. It will be like looking at the coaches of winning teams as they realize the work is done. It will be like looking at the artist whose songs are being sung louder by the crowd. It will be like looking at the universe, created to bring glory to its Creator, created to stun you in awestruck wonder, created to make you realize it was worth it. It was worth existing. It is worth being alive.<br />
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The next time people surprise you, let them. You don't have to decide how to react. You don't need to. Just let them. Stay in the moment. Let it seep through your skin and make you realize what you've known all your life: that God has been keeping you alive. For this.<br />
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And more.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-86513633407893559342015-06-02T23:30:00.000+08:002016-09-30T17:17:25.886+08:00The Boom: Coloud Headphones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: start;">This post may also be titled "What Happens When You Give Me Money and Send Me Off to Impulse Buy."</span></div>
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I present to you Coloud Headphones the Boom Blocks in Gray/Pink.<br />
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All right, the story begins with normal workers like you and me doing our job and doing it well. By God's grace, a veritable number of points was given to me as SPIFF (somebody please tell me what that means). As had been agreed, it was appliance showcase quarter, meaning we had to choose certain appliances that were worth whatever points we gathered. </div>
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Indecisive me could not decide in time what to order (and I was on leave), so I consequently forgot to send my request.</div>
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On the day of awarding, I was sitting, probably obviously sad because of my own negligence. So out of the blue, I was sent off to an adventure! Buy myself something and bring back the receipt.</div>
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Ergo, the Coloud headphones.</div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQ-TiWwrKro/VW3AyKdtPgI/AAAAAAAAArg/nT5eM9Qvnk4/s1600/IMG_0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQ-TiWwrKro/VW3AyKdtPgI/AAAAAAAAArg/nT5eM9Qvnk4/s640/IMG_0880.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
Admittedly, I have been eyeing headphones since last year. I've done a bit of reading on which ones had great quality and which ones were "meh." So when given the go signal to just buy, I was relatively prepared.<br />
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What I didn't take into account was my relatively giddier demeanor which eventually swayed my less-than-strong resolve. Decision-making abilities being stated, I stepped into the only store I knew in Ayala Cebu that had relatively more headphone choices.<br />
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"Hi, what's the best headphone set you have?"<br />
"We have Beats."<br />
"Uh, besides Beats." (<i>embarrassed smile here</i>) "Within the 1,500-peso range."<br />
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One points me to a Phillips headphones, but they would not let me try it because the packaging needed to be destroyed and therefore bought. Crossed that out. Also, I didn't have faith in Phillips' wiring.<br />
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Another pointed me to Coloud. So I tested it out.<br />
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Why this color? Because it looks like my running shoes. Also, it's kind of generic but not generic black.<br />
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Quality wise, it was okay. I'm not a reliable source when it comes to quality, but it sounded okay when I tried it at the store. At home though, when I played "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons, it sounded very scratchy, like metal and plastic. It wasn't the bass, although I would have wanted the bass to perform better. Other songs proved that the set was okay. So it's just the song then?<br />
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So yeah, the Boom seems okay. I've only had this for a day, so I may update this post as I abuse this set of headphones. It's also kind of too big for my head, but as I have decided after I bought it, one rule when buying on impulse is not to care . . . at least not much.<br />
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Here are the specs for the specs-seeking reader. (Info taken from the insert in the box.)<br />
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The Boom combines noise-isolating design with comfortable wearability.<br />
Audio Specs<br />
Driver: 40mm dynamic<br />
Sensitivity 100mV @ 1kHZ = 101dB SPL<br />
Impedance: 32 ohm<br />
Frequency Range: 20.0 ~ 20.0 kHz<br />
Flat cable: 120 cm<br />
Weight 132 g</blockquote>
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So there. I have a new set of headphones. My first set of headphones. Will I buy another set someday? I don't know. Let's see how this one fairs first. <a href="http://coloud.com/" target="_blank">Coloud</a>, make me proud. (Also, please don't make me regret not buying a relatively more reliable brand like Phillips or Pioneer or even TDK.)<br />
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It was fun to impulse buy. Is there a job out there that would just send me off to impulse buy then write a random, non-informative, wholly opinionated review about whatever it is I ended up buying? :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-50606950206668123072015-03-05T00:16:00.000+08:002015-03-06T00:17:03.226+08:00Throwback: The Twenty-First Time<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: white; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: Gibson, 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 42px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px 20px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Okay, way back in, I don't know, 2011, when I was still new to the world of social media and Tumblr, and when I was bored and extremely . . . wait, I think I was jobless when I wrote this. Anyway, way back then, I posted this on Tumblr. And I guess it really does still ring true today.<br />
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<b>The Twenty-First Time by Monk and Neagle</b><br />
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Nowhere to live, nowhere to fall<br />
He used to have money, but heās wasted it all.<br />
His face is a photograph burned in my mind,<br />
but I pretend not to see him for <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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He sleeps under stars, thatās all he can afford<br />
His blanketās an old coat heās had since the war<br />
He stands on the corner of Carter and Vine<br />
But I pretend not to see him for <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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He may be a drifter, heās grown old and gray<br />
But what if heās Jesus and I walk away?<br />
I say Iām the body and drink of the wine<br />
but I pretend not to see him for <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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<br />
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Sheās twenty-nine but she feels forty-eight<br />
She canāt raise three kids on minimum wage<br />
Sheās cryinā in back of the welfare line<br />
but I pretend not to see her for <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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<br />
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She may be a stranger tryinā to get through the day<br />
but what if itās Jesus and I walk away?<br />
I say Iām the body and drink of the wine<br />
but I pretend not to see her for <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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This is a call for a change in my heart<br />
I realize that Iāve not been doinā my part<br />
when I needed a Savior, I found it in Him<br />
He gave to me, now Iāll give back to them</div>
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<blockquote style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border-left-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-left-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 0px 3px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 10px 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 20px; quotes: none; vertical-align: baseline;">
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Drifter or stranger, father or son<br />
Iāll look for Jesus in every one<br />
ācause I am the body and drink of the wine<br />
and Iām thankful thereās more than <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">the twenty-first time</strong></div>
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<strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"></strong></div>
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<br />
<strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Open your eyes . . . thereās so much that you can do to change the world. Thereās so much you can give to those who are in need. There are so many ways for you to share the light to those who still havenāt found it. All theyāre waiting for is your solid YES to God.</strong><br />
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<br />
(Before I continue, Iād just like to say that this is the third time Iām typing all this down since the first two times, my browser crashed. Evil is working overtime.)</div>
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The problem with our society nowadays is that we have grown so accustomed to people sleeping on the streets, be it poor people with no homes to go to or people who have drunk themselves to sleep. We have grown so used to seeing them all sprawled on the sidewalk with only cardboard boxes as beds and clothes that havenāt been washed for who knows how long. We look at them, no, we donāt even really look at them. We only glance at them and think, <i>Thatās what they want and thatās what they get</i>. Sure, there are those people who would prefer begging to working. But if you dig deeper, there are those hearts that someday want to be teachers, doctors, engineers, and even business people. There are hearts that are yearning for more from this life. Hearts that want to learn, if only they were given a chance. Think about it, what if the boy on the street you just passed was supposed to be the one to find a cure to some sickness but he never would because you didnāt even stop to take notice of him? What if the girl hugging her knees as she lies on the cold sidewalk at night was supposed to alleviate her familyās poverty but she never would because nobody even offered to teach her?</div>
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We are so blessed that itās not hard to think of ways to bless others. We have so much that others have nothing of. We were made to be blessings to others. We are blessed to be a blessing. We were not made to hoard these blessings. God said that we should store up treasures in heaven, not here on earth. What use are these material treasures if we donāt use them for Godās glory? The Bible also says āTo whom much is given, much is requiredā (Luke 12:48). We were given much; thus, we can give much. If you think you donāt have "much" then think about those people who are sleeping and eating off other peopleās stuff. What do they have? And besides, what do you have that is not from Him? He gave us so much that He even gave His life for us. We were made to make a difference, and if we donāt realize that, then we might miss the chance of being used by our Creator.</div>
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Genesis 12</h4>
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The Call of Abram</h5>
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<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">1</strong></span> The LORD had said to Abram, āGo from your country, your people and your fatherās household to the land I will show you.</em></div>
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<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">2</strong></span> āI will make you into a great nation, </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">and I will bless you</strong>; </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">I will make your name great, </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> <strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">and you will be a blessing</strong>. </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">3</strong></span> I will bless those who bless you, </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> and whoever curses you I will curse; </em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">and all peoples on earth </strong></em><br />
<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> will be blessed through you</strong>.ā (emphasis mine)</em></div>
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<br />
Abraham followed God and <i>obeyed</i> Him to the extent most of us still donāt understand. And God fulfilled His plans that Abraham will be a blessing to others and to "all peoples on earth." Obey and He will use you. We were made to bless others as what God has shown through the life of Abraham. God can use you too.</div>
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<br />
Think about it. You were given so much. We are blessed so much, and there are so many ways we can bless others. It may be financial or physical comfort or even just the blessing of remembrance. The mere fact that you care for a person can uplift a poor spirit and let that spirit experience the light and love of Christ. We can start small. Maybe we can pray for that man on the streets today. Or give a piece of bread to that old lady scavenging for food inside a trash can. We can maybe talk to the children who havenāt had a bath since who knows when. Or maybe give extra clothes. And even go the extra mile to share the gospel of Christ to them so that they will know that God loves them no matter what their situation is. God has a plan for them although they may not see it yet. Letās help them see. Letās help them realize that Godās love surpasses all understanding. God loves us so much that He even sent His beloved Son to be with the ragged, torn, abused, and oppressed people He loves so much. He sent Jesus to show us that love is possible for everybody, even the ones our society may call <i>untouchables</i>. God wants us to love them the way He loves us, ragged and broken as we are. There are so many ways to be used by God. All God is waiting for is our <i>yes</i>.</div>
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<div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<strong style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">John 13:34-35</strong> <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: none 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> āA new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.ā</em></div>
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God bless us all! =)<br />
<br />
<br />
After reading that again, I feel like I'm still challenging myself. We are works in progress. God's not finished with us yet.<br />
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-21297059454484535882015-03-02T00:59:00.000+08:002016-09-30T16:14:37.732+08:00The True Man ShowWay back in 1998, I remember watching the movie <i>The Truman Show</i> and wondering if it's real.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ad009cdnb.archdaily.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/1353349494-the-truman-show.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://ad009cdnb.archdaily.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/1353349494-the-truman-show.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The horizon from <a href="http://ad009cdnb.archdaily.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/1353349494-the-truman-show.jpg" target="_blank">here</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
(For those who are not familiar with the movie, you missed half of your life. Kidding. It stars Jim Carrey and Ed Harris and a bunch of other actors acting as actors in the first reality TV show that shows actual reality but is a movie so of course it's not really real. You can also Google it.)<br />
<br />
Admittedly, until now I wonder if there are no hidden cameras around me or up in the sky or if everything that's happening in my life are all part of a script and the only variable would be me. And I see this type of wonder in other movies and cartoons and scripts. <i>MIB</i>, <i>Dexter's Laboratory</i>, even <i>Horton Hears a Who </i>question the possibility of someone much bigger than us looking through his microscope or telescope or magnifying lens and watching as puny humans like us try and make sense of the world we're living in. It is a question that so many have ventured to answer, even going to lengths that defy gravity (I am referring, of course, to missions into outer space).<br />
<br />
Well, here's proof.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. (Psalm 139:7-10)</blockquote>
<br />
Have you ever had that feeling that someone is watching you? Someone is.<br />
<br />
<b>Two Ways to Respond</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
"Oh, God, this is scary. Stop staring at me."<br />
<br />
<b>We can react in fear. </b><br />
<br />
"Why does He have to watch us? We're not doing anything wrong. Stop policing us. Stop waiting for us to make a mistake. Can't You just leave me alone?"<br />
<br />
It feels like we're trapped, like we can't do anything right. Like whenever we want to do <i>anything</i>, we have to overthink it: Will it please God? Is it the right thing? Am I allowed to do this? We mull over things other people, who don't know that God is watching, would do in a split second. We are in fear because we don't want to be caught.<br />
<br />
There's a psychology to that. One of the reasons people are so afraid of the law is because they don't want to get caught. Once people find a loophole, doing wrong doesn't seem so wrong anymore. Well, I'm sorry, but we will always get caught by Someone (refer to quoted verse above). There's nowhere to hide. He knows where we are even when we are lost. And we do have good reason to fear. He is, after all, God.<br />
<br />
<b>But we can also respond in gratitude.</b><br />
<br />
A girl asked her father to teach her to ride a bike. They spent their afternoons out in the dirt road in front of their house. Her father held on to the seat while she pedaled and tried to maintain her balance. Her father always adjusted the bike when it was about to fall over and they start again. Soon enough, she could pedal faster and faster without tilting, and at some point, she could feel her father's hand releasing his hold on the bike. But every time she felt this, she would tilt and tip over. Her father just helps her up. They try again. Faster and faster she pedaled until she didn't even notice that she was riding away on her own. She didn't fall over this time. She rode in circles and went back to where her father was standing. "You let go," she told him.<br />
<br />
"You have to learn to ride by yourself, but I never lost sight of you."<br />
<br />
Somehow, we feel like we are alone and that if anything bad happens, no one is going to be there to help us. Like we are in this world to figure things out ourselves, get ourselves hurt, then pick ourselves up. Like everything we're doing is just . . . what we're supposed to do because that's what we can do and it's all just for ourselves.<br />
<br />
Well, thank God He's watching you.<br />
<br />
You are not alone. Don't read that in a scary, horror-movie type of voice. Read it in a compassionate, caring, and loving voice. You are not alone.<br />
<br />
You don't have to be afraid. Someone is looking after you. You don't have to think that your life is worth nothing, that nobody cares what happens to you. Someone already saved you from a far worse death than you could have imagined for yourself. You don't have to feel depressed and lost. You're not lost. He knows where you are and will lead you if you want to.<br />
<br />
Knowing that Someone is always watching over us, why do we still want to make wrong choices? Shouldn't it be that we live in gratitude to the knowledge of security in this life? We don't think about it enough: Will it please God? Is it the right thing? Am I allowed to do this? We don't remember well enough that wherever we are, God is with us.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
I am with you always, even to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)</blockquote>
<br />
Present tense. Adverb of time. Description of range.<br />
<br />
In moments of uncertainty, we should not be afraid. God is with us. Always. Nothing happens in our lives that God doesn't know about. God is sovereign over all creation. Sometimes we don't understand what's going on, why we have to go through things that just hurt, but we can trust that we do not need to face it alone. We are not alone. God is with us.<br />
<br />
This is the true man show. We are the cast. We play our roles. But we have a Director, and we have an Overseer. We have God to take charge of everything. We are not alone.<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-11106274042897082752015-03-01T23:59:00.000+08:002015-03-02T00:31:59.203+08:00Knives under Healed Wounds<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.goodtidings.com.au/var/ezwebin_site/storage/images/media/images/red-heart-knife-block-and-knives-by-vice-versa/12032-1-eng-AU/Red-Heart-Knife-Block-and-Knives-by-Vice-Versa_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.goodtidings.com.au/var/ezwebin_site/storage/images/media/images/red-heart-knife-block-and-knives-by-vice-versa/12032-1-eng-AU/Red-Heart-Knife-Block-and-Knives-by-Vice-Versa_large.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Knifed heart from <a href="http://www.goodtidings.com.au/var/ezwebin_site/storage/images/media/images/red-heart-knife-block-and-knives-by-vice-versa/12032-1-eng-AU/Red-Heart-Knife-Block-and-Knives-by-Vice-Versa_large.jpg" target="_blank">here</a></td></tr>
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<br />
<br />
"When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, 'Do you want to get well?'" (John 5:6).<br />
<br />
"Duh," she said. "Of course, I want to get well. What kind of question is that?"<br />
<br />
She stared at her heart, conveniently placed in a glass case for everyone to see. The heart beat consistently, normally, because that's what hearts do. She spun the case on the lazy Susan of a table and watched it subtly jolt the heart back and forth, letting her know that it wasn't mounted in the most precisely balanced position.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Precarious</i>, she thought. <i>The word you are going for is </i>precarious.<br />
<br />
The heart stopped spinning and swinging on its mount. The lubb-dupp kept her entranced. Then she saw it, a tiny metallic glint reflected by the harsh fluorescent light of her room. It was only a slight protrusion. Like a lump in the heart's otherwise already lumpy structure. But it was noticeable. She would notice.<br />
<br />
"That was <i>that</i> night," she said to no one in particular. She saw another lump an inch above the first. "And that was what he said."<br />
<br />
There were other lumps in the heart, each with a metallic glint, each making her remember different times in her life, each making her wish even more to forget.<br />
<br />
They were knives. Every single glint was from a knife. There were more knives than she could care to count. But there were knives of every size. They were knives she plunged in her heart herself.<br />
<br />
"To stop it from beating," she told herself when she first stabbed her heart. But it obviously didn't work, and her heart kept on beating.<br />
<br />
With time, she became convinced that one more knife would do the trick. One more knife would finally give her the feeling she has been wanting for so long. One more knife would finally set her free from this world.<br />
<br />
But no. Every single knife hurt, for sure, but the heart grew around the knives. The wounds healed over them. Soon, whenever she decided to pierce another knife into her heart, she wouldn't feel it anymore. There was no pain. Anyone could stab her heart, but she would not notice. She grew accustomed to the weight of the knives. She couldn't notice it anymore. At least, at first she didn't notice.<br />
<br />
She would go on with her life, doing whatever it was that she did, all the while having a heart bleeding but healing around knives.<br />
<br />
Then they took out her heart and placed it in the glass case she was staring at now. She turned the lazy Susan once more.<br />
<br />
"Do you want to get well?" she heard the question again.<br />
<br />
She opened the glass case and tapped her finger on one of the knife points. Blood dripped from the prick. The knife was still sharp despite being enclosed in the heart. She wiggled it a little, but blood started pouring from where the blades would slice through the heart. And it hurt. It hurt like hell.<br />
<br />
"Maybe I don't want to get well."<br />
<br />
She thought of all those nights she spent squirming through the gash of blood from the most recent knife in her heart. She thought of all those days she couldn't move in fear of slicing her heart with the newest addition in her collection of knives. She thought of all the pain she would be experiencing if she decided to rip apart the knives from her heart. She knew that pain. She's tried it before.<br />
<br />
"Do you want to get well?"<br />
<br />
"No." She placed the glass case over her heart and secured the lock. Then she spun the lazy Susan again, wondering, waiting for when the next knife would pierce her and end it all.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Two Things</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Well, this is a familiar scene. It doesn't have to be knives in a heart. It can be sleepless nights, empty cups, senseless shopping, or aimless living. It can be lying on your bed and deciding that you're happy with your messed up life. It can be going through the days, thinking that you will forever be that person and feeling like you can't ever change.<br />
<br />
Well, here's the thing (the first thing, actually): You have a choice.<br />
<br />
"Do you want to get well?"<br />
<br />
It's not "Oh, you're sick. I'm going to heal you." It's not "Oh, you're healed." It's "Hey, I see you're hurt. Would like to do anything about it?"<br />
<br />
I know, it does seem stupid to ask a hurting person if they want to be healed, but listen, the person still has the choice. During Red Cross training/CAT training, one of the first things they tell us to ask an injured person is "Hey, hey, are you okay?" (I can hear the injured person saying "Duh.") Why do we ask? So we can get a response. We can get a reading of how the person really is. And that's also why we're being asked, "Do you want to get well?"<br />
<br />
A sick person who doesn't want to get well would do everything in his power to <i>not</i> follow the doctor's orders. He'd eat the restricted food, neglect medicine and exercise, and live a life he thinks would keep him sick. Why even try to heal him?<br />
<br />
"Duh, no one wants to be sick. At least no one wants to get sick intentionally."<br />
<br />
I disagree. When we get into destructive relationships (why does it always have to deal with relationships?), we're intentionally making ourselves sick. When we compromise with our work or our integrity, with our friends, when we backbite, we intentionally pick up viruses and germs and cultivate them in our hearts. Why intentionally? Because we're all grown-up here. We know what's right and wrong, yet we still make the wrong choice.<br />
<br />
We have a choice to get well. We were not made like robots. We were given the freedom to decide what we want to do with this borrowed life.<br />
<br />
Do you want to get well?<br />
<br />
Whatever it is that is not making you well, you should realize that you have a choice. You can get well if you want to.<br />
<br />
But here's the catch (which is the second thing): You can't do it on your own.<br />
<br />
<i>What?</i> you might be thinking. <i>Give us a choice then not let us actually do what we decide on?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Not saying you can't do it. Just saying you can't do it on your own.<br />
<br />
If that sick person in the street whom Jesus actually asks "Do you want to get well?" could do it on his own, why was he still there? His friends haven't helped him. (There go his friends.) He has no family to speak of. He was just . . . there.<br />
<br />
Tried stopping yourself from falling for someone you know is just wrong for you? (This heart again.) Tried stopping yourself from spending all your time and money on computer games or games in general or even shopping? Tried stopping yourself from a bad habit? Failed. Failed. Failed. Why?<br />
<br />
There are some illnesses that cannot be healed by patients alone. That's why there are doctors. It is the patient's choice to want to be healed, but the doctor does the surgery. Sure, the patient also has a large part in this, cooperating with whatever the doctor decides to do.<br />
<br />
Note the term <i>surgery</i>. Just the sound of it hurts. But we need it. We need to be operated upon. This life, this complacency to the things we know are wrong, the blisters and scabs of wounds we have opted to ignore, they all need to be operated upon. And we can't do it on our own.<br />
<br />
He's called a Savior for a reason.<br />
<br />
Why is it that when we say savior (lowercased), we think of firemen, superheroes, and knights in shining armor? But when we say Savior (capitalized), we think "Bleh, religious stuff"? Our Savior saves (duh).<br />
<br />
Sure, we've heard it all before: Jesus came to save us from our sins. But do we believe it? Do you believe it?<br />
<br />
Then why stay sick? Jesus offers to heal us. Give Him your consent. Tell Him you're ready for your operation. You don't need to keep living with those knives in your heart.<br />
<br />
It's going to be painful. I can assure you, it's going to hurt like nothing you've ever felt ever before. It's going to burn you to the core. But I can also assure you, it's all worth it. After all the pain of the operation, after all the knives are out of your skin and your heart, it will all be worth it.<br />
<br />
Knives are heavy, so once they're not in your heart anymore, your heart will get lighter.<br />
<br />
Note, you might feel occasional pain from new wounds you might incur, but have faith. All wounds heal. And someday, though you may have scars, you can smile and say you survived it all and that it wasn't just you. Your scars are battle wounds. Show the world who holds the victory. Your Doctor, the King.<br />
<br />
Do you want to get well?<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2180183029774098191.post-91370017692680063972015-02-27T23:42:00.000+08:002016-09-30T16:14:53.920+08:00The Trellis<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: start;">I am a branch. Trellis me.</span></div>
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<br />
"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful" (John 15:1-2).<br />
<br />
For the longest time, I have feared that I would be a branch cut off and thrown into the fire. For the longest time, I have wondered of the patience God must have to still be keeping me attached to the vine. There have been moments when I tried to count the hours or days or years until I find myself totally lost and alone. How wrong I have been.<br />
<br />
*The following realization was made during the CCF Overflow Leadership Conference and the panic research conducted after.*<br />
<br />
When we say "cut off," we immediately think of being cast aside and separated, being of no use and thrown away. We think of being left in the dark, of being forgotten. We struggle with the thought of being a failure, of disappointing the people who matter to us---of disappointing God. "Someday, God will find your uselessness a hindrance to His plans and will take you away," we tell ourselves. "Take away" may mean just getting killed or, the lesser evil but certainly more destructive, being left to our own devices. We tell ourselves that if we continue being the "branch in me that bears no fruit," sooner or later, we will find ourselves punished. Or maybe we would find ourselves living the same way we have been and not really care.<br />
<br />
Hopelessness. That's what happens to us. We find ourselves too much in dire straits and buried deep under the many compromises we have made that getting out seems impossible. We find it impossible. We find that no one can ever get us out. We think that no one will even try. Even Jesus says God will cut us off. Where is the hope in that?<br />
<br />
What I have learned, however, demands a very different explanation.<br />
<br />
In viticulture---which, in a nutshell, is the science of grapes---vines and branches are very obviously important. A vinedresser does not simply cut off branches and throw them away. A vinedresser is in charge of ensuring that all branches produce fruit, so throwing branches away as if they were weeds is not an option. What do they do then?<br />
<br />
In Greek, the term for "cut off" is <i>airo</i>. Most of the time, people translate it as to "take away" or to "remove," which is in part true. But since we have established that vinedressers do not simply throw things away, many lean into another meaning for <i>airo</i>, "to raise up, elevate, lift up." Why elevate?<br />
<br />
Vinedressers pick up branches that don't bear fruit and they clean them up. The branches might just be too pressed down on the ground. Then they tie them to a trellis.<br />
<br />
They place them in trellises to make sure they get enough light and they stay clean from the ground. They continue to care for the branches until they do produce fruit.<br />
<br />
This. Is. A. Revelation. Here I found myself mindblown, like, "What in the world?"<br />
<br />
You know when we're so hopeless that we think that God will eventually throw us away? Well, God will not throw us away. In the first place, when you are in God, no one can snatch you away from Him. Why in the world would He be the one to throw you away? Secondly, God knows what He's doing. He is the Vinedresser. He takes care of us. He knows what we're going through, and He knows what we need.<br />
<br />
There is hope.<br />
<br />
God continues to be faithful in our lives. We can't see it all the time especially when we're down in the dirt and trying to see the light, feel the warmth of the sun. We can't see when we focus on our problems, on ourselves. But God is in control. He picks us up and cleans us up. He doesn't give up on us. He will not give up on you.<br />
<br />
God will not give up on you.<br />
<br />
Sure it hurts. Sure it feels like "Why is this happening to me?" Sure it makes us wonder if we really need to go through all the pain. But maybe we need to get through all this to get the answers. We cannot discount the hardships, but we cannot make them excuses.<br />
<br />
So no matter how dirty you feel, no matter how useless you feel, let God pick you up and "trellis" you. We can't do this on our own. And we don't have to do it on our own. God will take care of us.<br />
<br />
I am an unfruitful branch, and it has taken me this long to acknowledge it outright. So finally realizing that there is still hope gives light to everything that has happened in my life. I have been in the dirt, and finally I am hanging on a trellis. I am holding on to that hope. There is hope because our faith is found in God, our God who is sovereign and faithful and mighty and just and loving. Our faith and hope is in the Lord who has already shown us in the most amazing way how much He cares for us---sending His Son to die for sinners, for people who are unworthy of anything, people like you and me. Jesus paid the price for our stupidity, for our recklessness. He took our punishment.<br />
<br />
And now God still cares for us despite our "uselessness" and gives us another hope: we are trellised. He is not giving up on us, so why should we give up on this life?<br />
<br />
There is hope. You are trellised.<br />
<br />
"We see not what is seen, but what is unseen. We see with faith and not flesh, and since faith begets hope, we of all people are hope filled. For we know there is more to life than what meets the eye" (<i>Every Day Deserves a Chance</i>, Max Lucado).<br />
<br />
"Happy is he who has the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord his God" (Psalm 146:5).<br />
<br />
"Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint" (Isaiah 40:30-31).<br />
<br />
Hold on. Hope on. God is not giving up on you.<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0