Unang Bigwas sa Tag-init

palabas na naman ako ng bahay, basta everytime na natapos na ang pag-aayos ko, nag-iisip ako kung anu ang magiging reaksyon ng mga tao sa itsura ko na naman. Nung isang araw, pinuna ako ng kapitbahay namin, bakit daw kaparis ng uniform kong yellow yung sapatos kong dilaw din..oo nga nu?..hehehe wala na kasi akong choice na isusuot na sapatos na babagay sa damit ko, at the same time konti pa lang naman yung bagay at komportable kong sapatos. Kaya nga, this time of my work eh, nag-iipon ako ng mga sapatos..yung stylish ba? para everytime na rarampa sa kung saan eh maganda ang itsura ko. Nung isang araw naman na sumunod, nagtinginan silang lahat kasi ang laki laki ng shades ko with matching yellow tiles na cap, hanggang sa paglabas ko ng kanto nakatingin sila, pakiramdam ko habang papalayo ako eh ako ang pinag-uusapan nila..."sino ba yun?" bakit parang ang weird nia manamit" ilan lamang yan sa mga kadalasan kong marinig sa mga kapait bahay kong nasa residential area ng Tatalon dito sa may Lungsod ng QC. anyway, wala akong pakialam sa sasabihin nila, basta importante eh masaya ako sa suot at komportable ako. Hirap kasi sa mga tao kailangan mung maging close mu sila muna bago ka nila makilala ng husto. Parang yung tipong kahit anung gawin mu eh malaya kang makakagawa ng anumang ikilos mu kasi kilala ka nila.

Masaya maging totoo, at higit sa lahat masaya rin ang maraming ka-close at kaibigan..

_Bernie_

Between the Silence and Peace

In the midst of boredom, i spend my time with someone who i preferred to be awesome and great. I don't know how do i feel this way? but i feel something especial and i claim that spending to much in someone you really feel good and not bad at all.

I left my house thinking him and wishing to be with his arms, reaching his warm air which came to his voluptuous mouth. Licking his small lips and watch his gorgeous smile at me. Oh my God!, why do i feel this way? is this called love in a physical way? or love in a very special way?. I don't know but i believe in every single minute of my life is a special something new.

I really feel the best of my time when I'm beside him. Feeling comforted when he hold tight around my waist, saying that he needs me. Confronts me, if he feel nothing and losing hopes. Need someone to talk to and to be love permanently.

He said, if you're writing with everything, you need to hear your heart and let it command your hand to write what it think and what pulls to you in the moment.
It's so funny to think that way, but i believe it's ain't good not to be true.
I wanna show to his face that i'm good and dedicated to be with him,...forever.

Poem

Im lost in a maze.
And so is my lover.
We both search
for something to discover.
He searches for his words,
And i search for a place.
We both get lost,
Hoping to stay.
I have a Rose.
He has a Lilly with roots.
Mines stands for love.
And his stands for truth.
Can a Lilly live with a Rose?
Can a Rose live with a Lilly?
Though they are the same kind,
Does it sound silly?
I hear his heart
Beating warm and whole.
He hears mine,
Closed and cold.
He holds my hand,
He can defend.
I hold his hugs,
Something to depend.
I shared my world.
All he heard.
I kept talking,
Soon he got hurt.
We like each other.
That is one strong common.
Will I change?
Or shall I stay stubborn?
He wants me to open.
He wants me to listen.
He wants me to share both our worlds,
He doesn't want to hasten.
So, I shall keep quite.
Hoping I would understand.
I shall hear his words, his world.
And soon receive his loving hands.
He feel's helpless.
Actually we both are.
We each give other a hand,
All the same, nothing but a heart.
He says Im a monster,
In his head.
He says I eat his heart,
Thinks on his bed.
For me, He's someone.
Truly undiscovered,
Someone new,
Someone uncovered.
Does he know how i feel?
How i cry in my heart?
Or is it me, should i know,
he doesn't want to be alone or stayed apart?
What should happen?
A simple two month contract?
Will we survive?
Or one subtract?
I don't know, I do care.
It's love?.. or is it fair?
Im tired. Im weak.
Lost and dead.
All i can do.
is just think of him in my head.
Oh!Dear. Do I doubt?
No, I don't. It's just fear start.
All I know is that he would be wonderful for me.
All he wants,..... for me to see.

A piece of world, a piece of paper bound by lonely dust.

by: Angel DeSouza


A book, has pages... Filled with most unique scribbles. Scribbled alone, scribbled with someone, scribbled for someone and scribbled... for own. Patterns of letters, colors of words, pictures painted with verbal ecstasy, only felt in the hands of the beholder, the Reader. shapes and sizes vary, content itself cannot be criticize to commonness or comparison. I wonder... if a book ever has its opening?... Or if it has an ending?.. Just like any other relationship? An untold story? Lessons or Accidents?... Is it same as a human? Or Is it just a dumb, deaf, lifeless book?...

Ive met this book.. unique, masculine, own world where its hard to penetrate.. penetrate with my mind, my mind alone.. a world of talks, a world of own. I saw it on a web page... still.. alone.. waiting to be touched.. waiting to be read... It was not on a cheap sale price. Not expensive either... just presentable. Presentable with no risks.. but risks alone.
Oh! how it taunted me. How it teased me to leave my unfinished book and go for it, go for him. And yes, at first site, i decided. My book... move forward. How silly. who would leave the existing book unfinished and go to another one. Me. I wasn't silly. It was just who i am.
How excited was I.. there it was.. opposite of me. On my lap..On my hand... in my mind. Somehow with communication between us, we managed to strike an agreement to sit alone, sit together, together with a meal. Hand to hand, touch to touch.. mind to mind, heart to heart. Its smooth velvet skin, darkest shade of honey. Height of similarity yet incomparable. Sheets so smooth, soft that i can sink my tongue into its depth of life. Looks beyond my presentation. Muscular with sheets of untold stories.Words of shut, waiting to be open. Like lips ready to be kissed upon its key for commencement. To open, to unwind, to release its forbidden knowledge that i alone can get a chance.. a life time chance to hear, to feel, to know, to taste... to be in.. to be within. How delightful would it be to travel one on one with this book. Alone but willing to risk. Alone willing to be filled. Alone willing to be with a pencil, pencil to write more stories, more events, more...life. More meaning. Oh.. the book dwells in my aching heart. Tied by strings of contract.. simple two month.. simple mutual understanding. Oh.. how i hunger for his world.. yet this book seems helpless.
Alas, no letters, no write, but my forcible lips pierced his white diaries of his words, his world. Leaving him unaided, left..loose...blown away into thoughts of loneliness. This book...
No not this book.. This lonely, living, knowledgeable, gifted, talented book.. wants to be heard.. but for a price.. It wants to share its world.. his world.. with me..
Its loneliness, ready to be crumpled.. empty pages that pre-occupy a books living youth. For every good thing you wish, a price has to be paid..
His price is his world, my price.. was...my..Truth.

This book wouldn't allow me to read.. its pages keep shifting and turning in rebellious agony.. hoping me to realize, come to my sense that i haven't purchased it yet. It was just there.. waiting for me to pay my fee.. my fee of truth. My fee of my world.
Trust between us, like a twisted grape veins.. bearing new fruit.
Alcoholic.. thirst.. filling of one's empty glass.. satisfaction, a defeat over the ties, a victory over the ruling God of loneliness.
He is my book, my ticket to the world im destined to be?...
Yet my pen is not ready to write. The pages disappear each time i touch... tears of watery grave, emotions of unparallel, fills, trickles and drops. His pages, he cannot see, invisible are my tears aloft, plop soft on his skin. His letters.. submerge, erased by my washing salt.

We both stand on an edge.. signed by a contract.. a book and a boy. How can they both fall in love?... Who is willing to move?
The boy, vigorate his pen on the book? Or the book, living sheets that dances to make the boy follow wherever it goes?
No leader.. No follower..
Just the writer and just the book.
Both fills each other.
Boy writes and shares his world in the fleshes of the pages.
Book allows with love and departs its side of the world and shares it with the boy.

Wow.. a piece of both worlds.
A piece of paper bound by lonely dust. Dust as in TIME....

Who am i?

by :Angel DeSouza


Lost child, lusts?
drowned in the world of creation and imagination..
no more do i want to live in this world. My world alone is beautiful than the world you see.. Reality. Please dont take me there.. i dont know it, i dont know no more. I dont want to know more.
I fear, i cry, i lie, i fight.. where?..Within.
Victim of hurt, Victim of pain, found by the responsibilities of a son, caught and tied by the dreams of my father. Tears shall spill from my beloved mother's eyes, her heart blamed by my father.
I live the world of blames. A world that only love is my redeemer, No God. No Angels. No lovers... My heart alone.
God's there now.
I run, run from whom.. myself.
I was once bounded by the images of witchcraft. happy to my eyes, lord saved me.
He saved me again and again, wiped my tears of grief at his face, he wipes love all over my soul.
Lovers.. pleasures just last for two months... sex and sex,, and lusts rule over me..
Freedom unrevealed, restricted by my soul, me.. who am i?..
i search.. i search,, i cry.. i cut. hearts been cut.
confused, defused.. forbidden..

Last and lest...
now i know.
I am still that same child but no more the same.
Image of a child who roams for someone to love, love to represent as a father..
but no.. im no more. like that..
im changed im an individual hunger to govern me..
knowledge to seek.
no more.. i dnt want to be a alone..
i dnt want to search more..
i dnt want to flirt for lusts..
I want to be.. silent..
i want to be... patient...
i want to sit.
i want to breath.


Above all...
i want to be..me..
Loved.. by someone to eternity.

I go left and You go right

I go left.
My path, chosen by these hands.
footprints walks the shore.. watering bubbles..
lest they wash away, memories...by-gone, sands.

You go right.
Demands, yet defends.. your, oneself.
lips woven with silken threads of water..
yet sooner thou skin, surrounds, like books and pages..
revealing to the chosen, Shed.

I go left.
Another story, Another time.
Chimes- my wind on my tingling sins of imperfections and mistakes.
Life creates another barrier...
yet love shines, destroys my dusted bridge.. lost yet soon find.

You go right..
Lost in loneliness... lest hunger shall u be found.
Bound by the lessons and knowledge that makes u whole.
By the neediness inside u, pour and gush fourth..
ur loving words, free, spilled on my touch, Sounds.

I go left and you go right..?
We have our own ways..
Paths wounded, loves stolen, voices lost.. heart betoken.. broken..
laughs the sound of lusts, and loss.. thunders the sound of unsuccess..
yet we find, yet we found, yet we like, bounded by our contract.

Now we go left and we go right..
singed by heart, never the less, our blood.
i feel what u feel, u feel wat i feel..
simple, yet more..
lonely, no more.

Angelxoxo

Kasama sa Duguan ng Ilong

dalawang beses pa lang ako nakikipag-usap kay Angelo, isang ka-chatmate na nakita sa tagged..ayun englisero pala ang loko at di ko talaga naiintindihan kadalasan ang kanyang mga sinasabi....

si Dolf Dolf....

kasabayan ko Dolf dolf sa pagpasok sa BC, halos matured na rin ang loko kung
titignan Physically..pero bata kung umakto ang mokong. Mahilig sa mga online games,
lalo na ang Grand Chaze na una niang kinahumalingan sa BC at walang ibang ginawa
kundi ang maglaro nito..di ko alam kung anung powers ang nakukuha nia sa paglalaro ng grand chase chuva at baliw na baliw siya dito. Ayun! after ng pagka-adik napuna
ng admin, di na nagtratrabaho, panay laro na lang..hahaha! na-probi ang mokong dahil dun, kaya naglakas ang loob na magmaganda sa lahat ng oras wag lang mawalan ng trabaho...pero kung tutuusin ay dapat naman talagang mag-ayos siya dahil pinasasahod sia ng shop.
ngunit ganun pa man, nagtagumpay ang loko at naging regular naman kasabay ko. at mapalad na naging bahagi ng nakakalokang history ng BC.

horrible ang humor at childish madalas, ewan ko ba? at ito lang ang lalaking nakakapagpatawa sa akin kapag nagagalit ako ng bongga..parang may sumthing na kumikiliti sa pwerta ko kapag nakikita ko ang kanyang nakakaimbiernang mukha at mala-dinosour na katawan. at kasabay ng pagpigil ng malalim na pagtawa nia sa harapan ko. Minsan nga di ko alam kung iniinsulto nia ba ako or sadyang ganun talga ang halakhak nia..

madalas nia kong asarin mapapersonal or mapa-online man, kaya nga kapag di kami nagkikita eh namimiss ko tuloy ang mga humor nia, yun nga lang lumalala kapag nagsasalubong ang mga pagmumukha namin, parang negative - positive relationship..hehehe

pero, infairness...malapit sa puso ko si dolf dolf, saksakan kasi ng kulit at walang keme sa katawan..kapag pinagsasabihan ko nga eh..tumatawa lang at ngumingiti na labas ang ipin na pang "BEAM commercial" nahihinto na nga lang ako, kahit pakiramdam ko eh nababastos na ko ng mga humor niang lakas MAKA-MACHO! yun nga lang di siya katulad ng ibang boys sa BC na mlakas uminom ng alak, love nia kasi yung drinks ng Jollibee lalo na ang C3 menu ng value meal..hahahaha!

sabi nga ng question sa facebook, sino daw ang taong gusto kong makasama sa isang isla?, sagot ko..walang iba kundi si Dolf dolf! kasi malamang di magiging boring ang araw ko...heheheheheh...i love you Dolf dolf!!


^_^

Ang mga dapat iboto sa konseho....

Ang Tambalang Walang tatantanang laban para sa mga estudyante ng PUP..ang mga tagapamandila ng mga karapatan ng mga mamamayan! IBOTO SA KONSEHO!




iniwanan ang sariling mga interes para maglingkod sa mga masang estudyante, they called themselves as a fighters for equal rights..


Kenneth John Evangelista, para Konsehal ng Sentral na konseho ng mga Mag-aaral sa ilalim ng partidong SAMASA






Ang boses ng kababaihan sa konseho..


Anna Cariza "Calet" Prado ng College of Business..

Condemned!

Condemned!
ni Ms. Len Leyesa


Ayon kay Merriam-Webster ang salitang condemned ay nangangahulugan na ang isang lugar ay "adjudge unfit for use or consumption." Kung gayon, ang isang bahay o pabahay ay hindi nararapat tirahan lalo pa't mas delikado ang lumagi doon kumpara sa tumawid ka ng naka-blindfold sa South Luzon Expressway. Kumbaga sa pagkain, panis o expired. Pero paano kapag wala ka ng ibang kakainin? Mapipilitan ka din namang kumain ng panis o kumain ng pagpag di ba?

Noong isang araw ko pa nabalitaan ang tungkol sa kundenadong pabahay ng Vitas-Katuparan. Matagal na panahon na mula noong nabisita ko ang lugar na yon. Pero hindi ibig sabihin nakalimutan ko na ang mga eskinita, ang amoy, at mukha ng mga taong naroroon. Naiisip ko nga na marahil wala namang ipinagbago ang lugar na yon, malamang ang lumala pa nga dahil na din sa matinding pinsalang dala ng kasalukuyang administrasyon sa sosyo-ekonomikong kalagayan ng mga mamamaya. Isabay mo pa ang mga natural na kalamidad. Nasundutan pa ng isang balita na mayroong isa pang tenement sa Sta. Ana na itinuturing na rin na kundenado.

Ngayon tatanungin ko kayo HUDC at NHA. Sino ba ang gustong manatili sa isang pabahay na walang hagdan, walang maayos na palikuran, napapaligiran ng masangsang na amoy? Sa tingin niyo, hindi man lang kaya naisip ng mga residente ang kahihinatnan nila kung sakali mang lumindol lalo na at kaya mong magsipit ng isang makapal ng notebook sa mga malalaking bitak sa five-story building?

Kaya maling sabihin na usual ng dahilan ng mga residente ng mga condemned na building na ito ang kawalan ng maayos na relokasyon at kalayuan ng lugar na paglilipatan. Dahil hindi usual yon, isang malaking bagay na patuloy niyong hindi maiintindihan kung ang tanging nasa isip niyo lang ay mangolekta ng bayad buwan-buwan mula sa mga low-cost housing na ito at ikandado ang kanilang mga yunit kung hindi sila nakakabayad. Hindi usual yon para sa mga taong ang pangunahing pinanggagalingan ng kanilang ikabubuhay ay pangangalakay ng basura, pakikipagpatintero sa mga MMDA sa bangketa; at paglalako at pagtitinda. Usapin ito ng araw-araw nilang panglaman sa kanilang sikmura.

Hindi na lamang ito usapin ng pabahay. Kung natatamo lamang ng mayorya ng taumbayan ang batayang karapatan, hindi na kinakailangang tumira pa sa mga bitak-bitak, binabaha, walang tubig-kuryente, earthquake at fire prone na mga pabahay. Dapat nga kayo ang i-condemn, isama na rin ang kasalukuyang administrasyon.

Sa ganitong sitwasyon, na inuna ng gobyerno ang pagbabayad ng utang na hindi naman natin napakinabangan, pondo ng militar na hindi naman tayo naipagtanggol kahit kelan kaysa sa serbisyo, lupa, trabaho at iba pang karapatam, masisisi niyo ba kung sumama kami sa rali, maging miyembro ng pangmasang organisasyon o para sa iba ay dalhin sa mas mataas na antas ang pakikibaka?

Naalala ko tuloy ang kanta ni Gary Granada..

Maghapo't magdamag silang kakayod, kakahig
Pagdaka'y tutukang nakaupo lang sa sahig
Sa papag na gutay-gutay, pipiliting hihimlay
Di hamak na mainam pa ang pahingahan ng mga patay

And so Chico River Flows

This is the story which have captured my presence as a sociologist and a storyteller.. Thanks for Gabriela!, as a sign of my gratitude I have written this on my blogsite (pagmomoda at pagninilay) just to see by everybody the struggle we didn't know.. PROLOGUE In many stories of courage, we always hear about men fighting bravely. But the struggles of peoples have not always been won by the men alone. This is the story of courage of women who fought bravely for their people. This story is not often told. This is the Chico river. Our great long river. This is the river that waters our fields and our animals. This is the river that takes away the dirt from our clothes and fills our water jars with drink. This is the river that nourished our ancestors and their fields before us. Our homes are built near long river where we play and swim. Like us, our ancestors played and swam in our great long river. Not so long ago, some people tried to stop the waters of our great river from flowing. They were the dam planners. they were rich white men from foreign lands and rich brown men from our own land. "let us build a very big dam in the Chico river", they said. "It will make our shops and factories run", said the rich white men. "It will bring lights and electricity in the cities," said the rich brown men. "More people will buy from the shops and factories." "it will makes us very rich," the rich white men said. The dam planners thought long hard. and they felt good. To build the dam, they had to stop our river from flowing. They had to contain the waters of our river and make it rise so high, it would drown our Kalinga village. The dam will be as tall as a hill and as wide as village to another. The dam planners hired white men and brown men to be dam builders. They measured the river. They studied the mountains. They tested the soil. "This place is perfect for a dam," they said. "Its jungle and no one lives here". And they felt good. Our elders talked with the dam builders. "this is our river. this is our land. This is our home," our elders said. "we've been living here for a long time. Our ancestors have lived here before us." "Think of the shops and factories that this dam will help run," said the dam builders. "Think of the lights that this dam will bring to the cities." "we do not need a dam," our elders said. "we need our homes and fields that the dam will destroy." The dam builders ignored them and left smiling. When the dam builders returned, they set up a camp near our village. The camp was guarded by soldiers. Some of our fathers, uncles and brothers tried to enter the camp. They were arrested and put to jail. Our elders called a meeting. "We must dismantle the camp," said our elders. "see the dam has not yet been built but it has already brought sorrow to our lives." "They have arrested some of us and they will continue doing so until they finish that dam," they said. " Let us do it," said our mothers, aunts and sisters. "We know how to fight. We will protect our village!" One night, a loud and long cry pierced the darkness. "Hwoooo-oow! Hwoooo-oow!" It was our signal to attack. We all ran quickly. Mothers, aunts and sisters. And children, too. With sticks, stones and bare hands, we broke down their tents. We turned over their machines. We fought them. The dam builders and their soldiers were surprised. They ran away and left. From then on, we kept vigil, we took turn guarding our great, long river. We slept on the ground. We built fires to keep ourselves warm. we sang salidumay to keep our spirits high. One day the dam builders returned. They returned with more soldiers, more guns, more supplies. They set up another camp and were determined to stay. Like the great river, news about the return of the dam builders flowed to the other villages. The people of our neighboring learned that they, too, would lose their homes and fields if the great dam was built. "hwoooo-ow! Hwooo-oow!" This is time there were more of us who came. People from the nearby villages came. The soldiers were surprised to see so many of us. They felt helpless as we tore down their camp. Outnumbered, they left. We gathered their tents, blankets and pots. we carried them on our backs and shoulders. We marched for hours with the heavy loads until we reached their barracks. We returned to them the things they have left in our land. The soldiers were very angry. again, they arrested more of our fathers, uncles and brothers. They put them all to jail. "Do not lose heart," said our mothers, aunts and sisters. "we shall not leave until our menfolk are released." so we kept vigil once again. We sang our salidumays. We lit more fires. We were joined by folks from other villages, near and far. They brought with them their own salidumays, their stories, their stories and their helpful ideas. Some of them brought arms. after several months, the prisoners were released. We all went home rejoicing. but when we returned to our village, we saw that the dam builders had built a bigger and a stronger camp. "Hwoooo-oow! Hwooo-oow! Again, we fought and fought hard. We used our hands, our feet, our bodies. Some used stones and sticks. Some used arms. But the dam builders were so many, and they had more arms. We could not drive them away. Then, in a final gestures of resistance, an old woman cried out, "HWOOOO-OW!"HWOOOO-OOW!" and shed off her clothes. One by one, our mothers, sisters and aunts followed. we held each other by the arms as we all disrobed. "We are your mothers, sisters and aunts." we told the dam builders and soldiers." Why are you doing this?" the dam builders and the soldiers were put to shame. They left covering their faces with their hands. For Fifteeen years, we fought to keep the great Chico River flowing. Every time the dam builders tried to return, we drove them away. Today we still have our land and our mountains. And the Chico River, our great long river, still flows.. EPILOGUE This is the story of our struggle, to defend our land