Sa Pebrero Katorse

Naisip niyang mag-bus para makapag-isip.

Kanina lang ay pinagtitinginan siya.

Yung batang pulubing ilalahad na sana ang palad para mamalimos pero umatras na lamang nang magsalubong ang kanilang mata. Yung nagbebenta ng nakaw na cell phone sa footbridge ”mahal ka n’un, Ate! Eto, S4, 10K nalang, hindi pa mawawala sa ‘yo!” Yung konduktor sa jeep: “Kinaliwa, este, sa kaliwa, pwede pa, usog usog na, kasya pa isa!”

Natatawa siya. Medyo korni rin mag-joke ang mundo. Bandang GMA-Kamuning, kinapa niya ang pisngi niya. Tuyo na.

02|17

The Ride Home

A day before my birthday, we were together.

The whole barkada, including him and me, ate at this local pizza place. The cost of the pizza was directly proportional to its taste, so to speak. But heck, if you had a barkada like mine, you wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about the taste of the pizza.

Anyway, off we were, talking mostly about the present and the possible future. The engineers looked away or picked at their food as the nurses ranted about the lack of jobs and the possible opportunities outside of the country. I just smiled and observed and would sometimes give him a dark look every time he attempted to slide bits of food into my plate.

I remember a friend commenting about his jacket. It was small and purple and it belonged to a girl. Of course, it fitted his slim body. Our friend it looked baduy on him. But I said it didn’t—it looked nice.

When the pizza ran out (I only ate two slices, I think) and the last friend gave a low belch, we decided to call it a night and head home. I had no idea I was in for some real-time movie experience.

I climbed up his bike and we were all smiles as we left the others. I was ready to go home.

It was the best ride of my life. I once experienced sitting on top of the jeepney, on the way to Miag ao, after an event in Iloilo City. I thought that was an awesome ride—you had to fight pee, fear, hunger and cold at the same time. But this motorcycle ride was, as how the book and movie would describe it, “infinite”.

I dunno if I am overreacting. Maybe this happens when you’re in love with the one who’s driving. The 7PM wind was cold; it pulled my cheeks back. I felt happy and alive. I felt like the ride lasted for two hours. I felt like I did not want it to ever end.

And so we talked like old friends, like how we would when we’re in a movie theatre or in a fast food restaurant. We talked like we had no problems, and how everything we do seemed to be right. He was the one person I could bare my whole being to and be not afraid he’ll judge me.

I remember hugging him and kissing his nape and whispering Iloveyous every so often, because at that very moment, even with the cold, rushing night wind and the possibility that he might not respond, it seemed like the right thing to do.

Stalk this. :)

I stumbled upon TED through spoken word poetry.

Actually, it was Bemjo who introduced spoken word poetry to Jen and me. After viewing three videos, I was moved. I immediately wanted to be in the place where the speakers are and cry with the rest of the audience. Drama, hahaha!

Anyway, I found this link to another TED video through Copyblogger. Incidentally, it talks about two of the things that most writers feel. Vulnerability and fear.

Click on Brene’s name to watch the video.

We are put on this earth to connect with one another. Connection is what gives meaning and purpose to our lives.

Brene Brown

How about you: When did you last felt vulnerable?

Stalk this. :)

An ideal summer shouldn’t be spent in Royal Metro Manille.

But this summer was anything but ideal. The only break I got was when I went home, spent time with Beast, and saw my father for the last time before he left for work. So, I’ll just tell you about one of the best summers I’ve experienced.

In 2012, the Suarezes (minus my father and brother) went to Bicol.

I got to spend time with my cousins from my mother’s side, see the beautiful Mayon and eat pili nuts to my heart’s content.

One fine day, Tito Ric decided to be generous so he treated us all for a trip to Mayon Rest house, yeyy!

Going to the rest house is a first for the family. I forgot to ask why it’s called a rest house when there are no houses to rest in, just cottages and benches. Hahaha!

The long climb to the rest house became longer not because of the kids but the adults who kept complaining about rayuma. But heck, look at them smile for the camera. Hahaha!

The view from Mayon Rest house is breathtaking. Sulit na sulit ang pananakit ng binti ng mga matatanda.

I think it was an hour and a half’s drive from Legaspi, the capital of Albay. It was raining as we drove up, so the place look very melancholic, peaceful and yes, damp.

The abandoned chapel. Except for other guests and burloloy-selling natives, there weren’t any other people to ask about the history of the chapel.

In front of the Mayon Planetarium. I’m not sure if I got the name right, but it does not matter because we were not able to go inside anyway. 😐

 

My cousins and Aunt Cyril, in front of my grandmother’s house in Malinao, Albay. The place is being developed to withstand more typhoons and eruptions, hahaha!

Stalk this. :)

Except for the two of us, no one else knows how we became a “we”. I’m too shy to share and I think smiling when someone asks about us is waaaaay easier than actually sharing it even when I really wanted to do just that.

Moving on, here’s a nice excerpt from Thought Catalog‘s article entitled What Happens When You’re Really Into Someone:

When you’re really into someone, you’re going to breathe deeper. You’re going to feel like the air suddenly has more oxygen, I don’t know; something is going to kick your blood into coursing and you’ll feel very almost painfully awake. You’re going to start seeing things differently. You might experience synesthesia and feel a little crazy. You’ll feel like you walked right into the source of light and it’ll be amplified and surreal; you’ll feel like you can’t get down but somehow everything’s less desperate.

I’d like to believe that this does not only happen when you are in love. The same feeling also comes when you’ve just done a good deed or discovered what your passion really is.

What do you think?

Here’s the rest of the article.

Ernest on writing

When someone is happy, writing is one of the last things he will probably do.

But when he is sad, broke, alone, and hungry, he is most likely to look for an outlet which only requires two things: his brain and a pencil.

If money lands on his hands, he won’t buy paper. He’ll most probably get a bottle of beer, which leads to this other quote from the same guy.

On hunger and Kurt Vonnegut

I am referring to food, but not exactly those which I can excrete after a few hours.

I am leaning towards the intellectual kind of hunger and in this case, I mean words. Copy. Content. Ideas. I’d like to believe that I am becoming obsessed with writing (editing not yet included), and Kurt Vonnegut’s 8 Tips On How To Write A Good Story is really something worth sharing.

The 8 Tips To Write A Good Story (along with my side-comments, because I love side comments):

1. Use the time of a total stranger in such a way that he or she will not feel the time was wasted.
In other words, make the readers unconsciously waste their time.

2. Give the reader at least one character he or she can root for.
There’s always someone. If there isn’t, then it belongs to the bin. As my Advertising teacher would say, something should happen in first 10 minutes of the film. If nothing does, don’t watch it.

3. Every character should want something, even if it is only a glass of water.
There’s a reason a character is a character. That’s why one cannot see all the characters from all the books in the world.

4. Every sentence must do one of two things–reveal character or advance the action.

5. Start as close to the end as possible.
Some films take this literally. That’s why I love them.

6. Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them–in order that the reader may see what they are made of.
Want a consistent proof for this? Try watching any Filipino teleserye.

7. Write to please just one person. If you open a window and make love to the world, so to speak, your story will get pneumonia.
This is one of the reasons I like Kurt.

8. Give your readers as much information as possible as soon as possible. To heck with suspense. Readers should have such complete understanding of what is going on, where and why, that they could finish the story themselves, should cockroaches eat the last few pages.
I know Sidney Sheldon to be one of the writers that Kurt is talking about. He floods your brain with characters, events, details and other information that you should take mental notes of. But you do not get stressed with the information overload. You get stressed because you need to turn the pages even when sleep is calling.

Here’s the video if you’re interested.

I like how Kurt uses his words to elicit reactions from readers and writers alike. Interestingly, he was also the one who said “If you want to piss off your parents and you don’t have the nerve to be a homosexual, the least you can do is be an artist”.

So, which rule are you going to break?

On copying and pasting

“To copy from one is plagiarism. To copy from many is research”.

I saw this quote while I was site-hopping, my attempt at getting writing bursts and improving myself. Before I got to useful sites like Hongkiat.com, this was one of those I saw.

Plagiarism has become a disease at this age. Our ancestors would have smacked us on the head if they learned of this behavior. A friend once told me, “laziness pushes innovation”. Then, I thought there was something weird about the quote. Not only is it applicable either ways, it also goes in a cycle.

We are so fond of copying and pasting that we forget about reputation, gratitude and credit. How hard is it to paraphrase or copy a URL? How difficult is it to admit that something is not yours? You just saw it, found it nice and thought it would look good on your page too. Someone else conceived that idea. Bottomline: It.Is.Not.Yours. Remember, plagiarism is a crime.

Let’s give credit where it’s due, so we deserve to be called higher life forms. How different would we be from other living creatures if we remain ignorant, right?

Source:http://ancientgreekcivilization.wikispaces.com

I am Miss Typo.

One of my favorite mistakes is making typos.

I am irritated by this. Annoyed by his. I roll my eyes when I get corrected because I know it’s my fault, my fault, my fault. But.It’s.Just.So.Hard.To.Edit. It takes another person to let me see what my fault was. Gahd, I’m so lazy.

I hate editing my material. I’d rather edit or write. Not both. I hate doing both.

Then, again. This is my job. T_T

What Ernest Hemingway has to say to you.

Writing and travel broaden your ass if not your mind and I like to write standing up.

Source: BrainQuote