tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38339722011-07-08T06:08:11.456+08:00Truth is stranger than fiction...Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comBlogger891100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-44796179834317416372009-12-15T14:07:00.003+08:002009-12-15T14:29:22.627+08:00

By the time this article gets published, it would be 10 days before Christmas. As Catholic tradition would put it, it is now time for the Simbang Gabi. I am sure that by the mere mention of the term, some readers would be filled with vivid memories of having attended even a single day of mass right before the break of dawn. According to the Roman Catholic Church, Simbang Gabi is one of the

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-18090859078192243802009-12-08T10:13:00.000+08:002009-12-08T10:15:58.872+08:00

<!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4 <![endif]--><!--[if !mso]> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } <![endif]--> <!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;} /*

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-86497078015071288432009-12-02T03:10:00.006+08:002009-12-02T03:18:29.545+08:00

Power and tragedyWe commemorate Dr. Jose Rizal’s death anniversary every December 30. In Laguna, June 19 is a provincial holiday, pertaining to our national hero’s birth. In the case of Andres Bonifacio, founder of the Katipunan, we memorialize his birth – November 30. Bonifacio was killed on May 10, 1897 at Mt. Buntis, Cavite by members of the organization he himself had organized. Some

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1160491554727168002006-10-10T22:40:00.000+08:002006-10-10T22:48:49.596+08:00

Sentimental Basura # 1 Everyday we are falling apartEveryday it is breaking my heartAnd everyday I must try to move onPut a face that I should be strong.And though I know there is nothing I could doIt doesn't change the fact on what I feel for youYou would always be a part of meAnd only your love could set my heart free.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1144145185629304352006-04-04T18:04:00.000+08:002006-04-04T18:06:25.643+08:00

Not surprisingWhy am I, along with most of my colleagues, not surprised by the testimony of Election Commissioner Ressureccion Borra at a recent Senate hearing? It could have made a big impact – with nonetheless a high-ranking official from Comelec admitting ‘massive’ irregularities in the 2004 polls. Yet, as the sound of how things are, it is being shrugged off as another dissenting ‘opinion’

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1143617141911609832006-03-29T15:19:00.000+08:002006-03-29T15:27:09.313+08:00

The way things are, and should beIf one is writing a column or simply posting his thoughts on the internet, there are several topics which are readily available. However, the writing part is always the hardest. In fact, the drawing of opinion is not an easy task. It entails a lot of research and data gathering to formulate a decent, if not a sensible conclusion. It is always subjective as

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1141730111525583962006-03-07T19:13:00.000+08:002006-03-07T19:15:11.536+08:00

With or without diploma As I was looking over some of the things I have written in the past few years, I was reminded again of the reason why I finished college and why I pursued higher education for that matter. In fact, some people I admire were not college graduates. They merely stood above the rest in the chosen fields they have ventured. But this is not to say that I

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1141638681831427252006-03-06T17:49:00.000+08:002006-03-06T17:51:21.843+08:00

PositivelyI am the weakest person I know. I am strong yet I am weak.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1141138801541868182006-02-28T22:58:00.000+08:002006-02-28T23:03:21.130+08:00

Queen’s gambitAs a student of political science, the orientation I have of politics is basically that of “the seizure of power and the preservation thereof,” depending on which side you are on. It also means governance and the elements of the state, but these could be viewed as mere technicalities – coordinately laid-out for compliance in order to complete the bigger picture. Ethics, principles

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1139988295684809162006-02-15T15:23:00.000+08:002006-02-15T15:26:14.860+08:00

Suicide run A police report featured at TV Patrol caught my attention last February 9, 2006, just about the time when dinner was being served. It was a story of an 18-year old who tried to jump-off a billboard at Katipunan Ave., Quezon City. His name is Alvin Sangcalan, a native of Cagayan Valley. He was shivering in front of the camera, lying on the floor, all dirty, half-naked, and

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1060686920411557032003-08-12T19:15:00.000+08:002003-08-12T19:15:20.376+08:00

QUESTION NO. 22 What does it take to be human?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1059453804875607842003-07-29T12:43:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:26:15.510+08:00

DELETED

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1059345217719032152003-07-28T06:33:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:26:51.856+08:00

PURGED

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1059126237320181772003-07-25T17:43:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:28:06.690+08:00

HAD TO ERASE

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1059125597126716332003-07-25T17:33:00.000+08:002003-07-25T17:38:29.310+08:00

QUESTION NO. 21 If you had the opportunity to have written any poem (famous or not), what poem would that be and why?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1058777323149415832003-07-21T16:48:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:29:24.863+08:00

ONE STORY AT A TIME

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1058508952725182082003-07-18T14:15:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:31:45.306+08:00

CANCELLED

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1058332207733925902003-07-16T13:10:00.000+08:002005-03-23T16:33:12.023+08:00

WALA NA

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-1058331503853222032003-07-16T12:58:00.000+08:002003-07-16T13:09:14.940+08:00

QUESTION NO. 20 How do you feel about sharing your thoughts (and feelings as well) over the internet?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-950234842003-05-29T13:10:00.000+08:002003-05-29T13:10:30.936+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Last Entry With the controversy spinning on Melvin's work, Mark agreed to meet him inside a church one Wednesday. Mark asked Melvin why he chose the church to meet him. He replied that his apartment was no longer safe for any form of conversation with so many people invading his privacy. "So what is it that you're going to tell me," Mark inquired. "I want a way out," said

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-950231832003-05-29T13:02:00.000+08:002003-05-29T13:02:13.080+08:00

QUESTION NO. 19 The nicknames you've had all your life. . . .

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-949255802003-05-27T12:31:00.000+08:002003-05-27T12:31:56.243+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Entry No. 5 Robin was a teen-ager, a loner and someone you'd see sitting on a corner reading a book or sometimes talking to himself. Classmates describe him as weird. Police reports indicated that he had family problems and couldn't seem to handle pressure very well. He had no real friends and his home is not the kind of place one would want to stay in. He came from a broken

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-947742942003-05-23T14:12:00.000+08:002003-05-23T14:12:43.540+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Entry No. 4 With whatever phenomenon there was on thenovel he wrote, the public accepted his story with an enthusiasm unprecedented in its time. Phrases coming from the book like "What is the secret of life? You'll know it when you're dead," were very popular among students and academicians. For them, here is an author who could speak in plain language the secrets of one's

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-947741892003-05-23T14:09:00.000+08:002003-05-23T14:09:15.946+08:00

QUESTION NO. 18 Given a five minute chance to visit either of the two, which would you choose: Heaven or Hell? And why?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-945551902003-05-19T08:31:00.000+08:002003-05-19T08:31:56.970+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Entry No. 3 Melvin decided to become a writer. The idea crossed his mind one day when his phonepal told him that he "could catch words in the air and make sense out of nonsense". Yes, he had a phonepal. On the long wait for the morning, Melvin found it an easy escape to talk to strangers on the phone. He met this girl who refused to reveal her real name. Instead, they created

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-944879502003-05-17T13:56:00.000+08:002003-05-17T13:56:44.613+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Entry No. 2 The first few weeks of his newly found life was never dull. He tried things he never did before. Things like sleeping on a morning then waking up early at night to watch television 'til his eyes grew tired. He had cable installed in his home and had a marathon of movies moving before his eyes. He tried painting. He would scribble images, though not on canvas,

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-943695282003-05-15T12:11:00.000+08:002003-05-15T12:14:54.000+08:00

THE ULTIMATE TRUTH Entry No. 1 He decided that he have had enough of the old life he had so he quit his job. The truth is, he doesn't have any idea what lies ahead of him after he made his decision. It was just a spark of the moment, having worked as an office clerk for eleven years, he really felt he needed a break. Confident that his minimal saving would last him for more than a year, he

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-943695042003-05-15T12:10:00.000+08:002003-05-15T12:25:05.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 17 Blogging is ________________________.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-936918522003-05-03T13:28:00.000+08:002003-05-03T13:28:04.316+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 4 But the clothing of the night, with its dark seams and black vesture, could not keep within its cloak the entirety of the secrets it held. Such an irony that a time for rest could be a time of torment for some – the stars being silent witnesses, keeping vigil, providing hope that there would be no rain on the break of dawn. The garden within her father’s house became

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-936910062003-05-03T13:05:00.000+08:002003-05-03T13:21:35.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 16 KINDLY COMPLETE THE SENTENCE: BLOGGING is better than ___________________.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-932898552003-04-26T18:22:00.000+08:002003-04-26T18:24:30.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 3 Salvatore Narvaez did not wish to see his youngest son set out to sea, if not for the grave consequences that befall the young lad if he would stay, or to the danger of a life being constantly pursued, where one’s freedom is limited and has to turn his head every once in a while to guard against those who wish him harm. No, he reasoned, as he tried to search for another

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-932895302003-04-26T18:07:00.000+08:002003-04-26T18:09:55.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 15 Who encouraged you to start blogging?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-921191042003-04-07T09:57:00.000+08:002003-04-07T10:30:58.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 2 Little by little, piece by piece, like teardrops forming a downpour. Father Narvaez, with his right leg still buried on the ground, laid back on the soil and fervently tried to put things in perspective. It was not because he felt weak, neither does the weight of the world seem to hang on him. What grew heavy in his heart was the fact that it seemed that all things are

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-921188032003-04-07T09:51:00.000+08:002003-04-07T11:36:48.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 14 A TRIBUTE TO BESTFRIENDS: Who is your and bestfriend and why is he/she the best?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-919734152003-04-04T17:59:00.000+08:002003-04-07T09:35:50.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 1 When Father Narvaez accepted his fate at the hands of the gentlest people he knew, he reasoned that time, faith and destiny are crossbreeds - locked up in an eternal entanglement to say which conquers which, and to whom man must pay tribute. He would remember clearly how his father, Don Juan Narvaez, told him years ago, while the former was lying on his deathbed, that

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-915902612003-03-29T14:15:00.000+08:002003-03-29T14:34:59.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 13 My first name is VINCENT that's why i use BEANSENT on my URL. How about you guys, why do you use whatever it is you are using on your respective URLs?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-911078282003-03-21T13:56:00.000+08:002003-03-21T14:01:44.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 12 Best book you have read and why. Please include the author.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-909771012003-03-19T14:58:00.000+08:002003-03-19T14:58:30.076+08:00

(UNTITLED) Last Entry XII I got inside our house using the window of my room. Pretending that nothing happened, I stayed in bed waiting for the morning. I went down when breakfast was being served. I saw my mom and my sister sitting at the breakfast table. My mother looked at me both happy and angry. She did not say a word though. My sister welcomed me with her smile. I heard my father

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-908934542003-03-18T10:11:00.000+08:002003-03-18T10:11:52.500+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 6 X I would never forget that afternoon. We had the grandest time. We went to every store that perked our curiosity. Acting as if genuinely interested, we’d ask the salesclerk a litany of questions then get out with brochures at hand. We ate ice cream, read a few good comic books at the bookstore, and had a long walk. We also went to the same park we were before. We held

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-908933052003-03-18T10:09:00.000+08:002003-03-18T10:09:23.763+08:00

QUESTION NO. 11 The first thing that attracts you most in a person. . . and why?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-908384612003-03-17T13:17:00.000+08:002003-03-17T13:17:11.810+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 5 IX On the second morning I was staying with Mina, I saw her walk out of the room with only a loose T-shirt and panties on. But that’s beside the point. We had a breakfast of instant noodles and settled down at the couch on the sala to watch a movie. The day before, she was so busy with some papers so I stayed at my room trying to keep myself busy by reading. Her

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-907965092003-03-16T15:13:00.000+08:002003-03-16T15:13:52.746+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 4 VIII Things were not looking up at home when school was over. Mom and dad started to have fights for reasons they won’t tell. As much as possible, they don’t want us to see them quarreling but my sister and I could hear the entire racket from our rooms. In the middle of the night, I could hear glasses and plates being thrown and all. That was the time I decided to run

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-907962172003-03-16T15:04:00.000+08:002003-03-16T15:15:17.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 10 Favorite day of the week?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-907478202003-03-15T12:39:00.000+08:002003-03-15T13:57:11.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 3 VI I asked my mother if she ever read what was inside my great grandfather’s diary. Tucked inside an antique cabinet, it is not that hard to take away the bundles of rope that served as the journal’s lock. She said no and reasoned that that was the specific instruction of her mother. She then went on lecturing about the virtues of keeping a promise. She implied that she

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-906729012003-03-14T06:48:00.000+08:002003-03-14T06:54:30.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 2 IV My sister started writing on her diary when she was just ten years old. We never talk much, her being older than I am by three years. By the time I was old enough to be influenced by computer games and video arcades, my mother saw it as an opportunity for her to finally persuade me to start a journal of my own. I complied, thinking I could outsmart her by scribbling

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-905926102003-03-13T00:12:00.000+08:002003-03-13T00:17:04.000+08:00

(UNTITLED) Entry No. 1 I No, it was not the time I gave her a ring wrapped around the petals of a rose. Neither was it the time I made her a poem; words picked up from an old dictionary, like broken pieces of glass. The sweetest thing I ever did for Mina was when I woke up in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. I kissed her lightly on the cheek, and whispered apologies for failing

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-905923242003-03-13T00:06:00.000+08:002003-03-13T00:06:59.810+08:00

QUESTION NO. 9 How do you kill boredom?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-903717462003-03-09T06:11:00.000+08:002003-03-09T06:11:44.030+08:00

QUESTION NO. 8 Most precious thing that could be found inside your wallet (or purse). . .

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-902860902003-03-07T13:59:00.000+08:002003-03-07T14:18:26.000+08:00

ALTERNATE REALITY Last Entry All in all, I’ve killed seven people. No sense in telling you the gory details on how it transpired. Be content on the fact that I did not kill them without a purpose. They were not senseless. They provided me the revenge I needed on the men who murdered my family. Dog eats dog, they say. For one thing, I also got the money I later stole from them. It made my

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-901761422003-03-05T22:24:00.000+08:002003-03-05T22:24:16.390+08:00

QUESTION NO. 7 Why do you blog?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-901759382003-03-05T22:20:00.000+08:002003-03-05T22:20:32.746+08:00

ALTERNATE REALITY Entry No. 4 The first kill I made was the time I was eighteen years old. I sell cigarettes and stuff at night to augment our income. My friends would stay with me until the late hours of the morning. Mostly, those who buy from our makeshift store are drunkards or men who simply couldn’t find sleep at the comfort of their homes. I admit that some of my friends do engage in

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-901123362003-03-04T22:17:00.000+08:002003-03-04T22:17:36.793+08:00

ALTERNATE REALITY Entry No. 3 It could rightfully be called that those I killed were victims. They were victims of circumstances. It’s not cold-blooded murder. It’s merely what the situation called for. Emperors and kings massacred hundreds of thousands yet history perceives them as men of great honor. Generals plan their tactics on the comfort of their headquarters while ordinary soldiers die

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-900368902003-03-03T14:47:00.000+08:002003-03-03T14:51:09.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 6 What song has that effect on you that it makes you pause whatever it is you're doin?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-900366252003-03-03T14:40:00.000+08:002003-03-03T14:45:32.000+08:00

ALTERNATE REALITY Entry No. 2 I was thirteen when I first had a fight. Lining up for clean water, the bully of the neighborhood would insist that others give him way. I, as well as other kids my age, have tolerated his behavior for much too long. He wasn’t big, he was just vicious. Sporting a tattoo on both sides of his arms and chest, it was an open secret that he picked pockets to live.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-899631462003-03-02T03:06:00.000+08:002003-03-02T03:08:37.000+08:00

ALTERNATE REALITY Entry No. 1 As far as I was able to remember anything, my mind and body had already been wrought to endure a lifetime of pain. Only those who were treated unfairly could understand justice in the form I have fashioned. I take other people’s lives and hold them in my hands. In a strict sense it’s just a profession, something to help me survive in a world where dog-eats-dog.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-896540232003-02-25T01:41:00.000+08:002003-02-25T01:41:51.763+08:00

QUESTION NO. 5 Last best movie you saw. . . . and why?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-892259102003-02-17T14:42:00.000+08:002003-02-17T14:45:41.000+08:00

TONIO AND THE BLUE LIGHT Last Entry The young Tonio was dressing up for work when he arrived. He explained that he has no more home to go to and asked if he would take him. His past-self agreed. And so it was settled. He was to live there for the rest of his remaining life. The young Tonio later quit his job and had his own home built. After a year, he got married, settled down, and introduced

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-891683592003-02-16T10:50:00.000+08:002003-02-16T10:51:33.000+08:00

TONIO AND THE BLUE LIGHT Entry No. 4 "Right on schedule," he thought. This is the time when his past-self would come scrambling in the office to start his chores. He remembered clearly the lack of sleep he had during those days. After selling newspapers, he would then become a janitor. "Stupid boy," he thought. "Doesn't he know that all the things he worked so hard for would be gone in an

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-891325622003-02-15T14:37:00.000+08:002003-02-15T14:37:45.246+08:00

QUESTION NO. 4 Define reality. . . . .

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-891324772003-02-15T14:35:00.000+08:002003-02-15T14:35:17.150+08:00

TONIO AND THE BLUE LIGHT Entry No. 3 Because of the incidents, Tonio was more determined than ever to succeed. He took poverty as a curse that he must break free from. He worked doubly hard. At four, he would have already waken-up to distribute newspapers at stalls. By six, he would walk to the office where he worked as a messenger and as a janitor. He would also sell candies and cigarettes

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-890784872003-02-14T14:56:00.000+08:002003-02-14T14:56:16.516+08:00

SONNET ATTEMPT (para sa 'yo. kilala mo kung sino ka) Ask not my heart for I would not forgot The light in your eyes, the world you let me see When the day sleeps remember me not Where on the road have lead you to me. Who can say what the heart does speak As we count the moments of our everyday For life is a mystery we seek One can pray and yet run away. Like the wind passing by my window Or the

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-890760452003-02-14T13:45:00.000+08:002003-02-14T13:59:40.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 3 What do you think is the perfect Valentine's Day gift?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-890691322003-02-14T11:10:00.000+08:002003-02-14T11:13:08.000+08:00

TONIO AND THE BLUE LIGHT Entry No. 2 When he was around 16-years old, he decided to step outside the orphanage. Being used to the hardships of life, Tonio entered odd jobs from being a janitor to messenger to a newspaper vendor. Being taught the religious ways, he did not engage in any illegal activities though he gambled a little. He was desperate. He wanted a better life when he discovered

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-890169802003-02-13T13:36:00.000+08:002003-02-13T13:42:04.000+08:00

TONIO AND THE BLUE LIGHT Entry No. 1 Tonio would do anything to get himself out of poverty. In the place where he grew-up, orphanages are almost non-existent. In fact, the reason why he grew-up in one was because he admitted himself there. When his father died because of tuberculosis, he and his mother had to live with their relatives. Shortly thereafter, her mother also died on what appears to

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-889526112003-02-12T11:54:00.000+08:002003-02-12T11:55:30.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 2 HAVE YOU EVER LOVED SOMEONE IT'S TURNING INTO HATE?

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-887406932003-02-08T12:01:00.000+08:002003-02-08T12:04:27.000+08:00

THE PUNCHLINE IS AT THE END Last Entry Wednesday came. He took extra-efforts to make himself look good on that particular day. He even went to a barber for a quick haircut and a shave. He was extra-careful while he ironed his suit. “Tonight,” he said, “would be the best performance of my life.” Bert smiled at the mirror. He then made a heinous laugh that sent the birds from his window fly

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-886578552003-02-07T01:51:00.000+08:002003-02-07T13:09:26.000+08:00

THE PUNCHLINE IS AT THE END Entry No. 3 Two months have passed since Emma left for Japan. Bert received neither a letter nor a call. He would have been worried sick if not for a friend who told him that Emma’s doing fine. The friend told him that she received a letter from Emma. Wondering why he did not receive one, he just tried to convince himself that maybe she’s still adjusting to her new

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-886019162003-02-06T02:39:00.000+08:002003-02-06T02:39:17.943+08:00

THE PUNCHLINE IS AT THE END Entry No. 2 Bert and Emma were engaged to get married next year. After getting off from work at the club, he would enter this cafeteria that opens at three in the morning. This is where Emma works. After a couple of times that Bert ate at the place, he noticed this waitress who had small lips, delicate jaws, full breasts and eyes that actually smiled. He found her

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-885777922003-02-05T14:55:00.000+08:002003-02-06T02:36:16.000+08:00

THE PUNCHLINE IS AT THE END Entry No. 1 The only thing on Bert’s mind right now is a wish that he’d be able to survive another night of performance without breaking down. He felt the weight of the world on his shoulder as he straightened his American suit. His girlfriend once asked him if he ever felt that what he’s doing is more than a job, but a mission. “The task of making people laugh is

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-885765252003-02-05T14:19:00.000+08:002003-02-05T14:39:04.000+08:00

QUESTION NO. 1 Do you believe in forever? And why? Please click your answers. Thanks!

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-884769962003-02-04T00:09:00.000+08:002003-02-04T00:09:06.703+08:00

What to do? Oh what to do? I’ve been rounding blogs on the net lately and I’m fascinated with the ideas of so many people. Much like the underground punk scene, there’s a community of bloggers willing to share their ideas. Basically, it’s largely an online diary where people could let others take a peek on their so-called life. It’s a great idea actually; a form of expression of another level.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-882731872003-01-31T00:14:00.000+08:002003-01-31T00:20:52.000+08:00

shakesperean attempts entry no. 1 kung mawawala ka para akong 'di nagtutbras sa umaga. kung di ka makita 'wag na lang alisin mga muta sa mata. at kung 'di ka makakapiling hayaan nang mag-amoy saging. mahal kita. . . . ganyan ang iyong ala-ala libag sa balat na hindi mabura. entry no. 2 sabi nila mabaho iyong hininga minahal kita. sabi nila kili-kili mo amoy paa minahal pa din kita. ganyan

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-849107172002-11-22T14:10:00.000+08:002003-01-19T02:49:11.000+08:00

Sacked

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-847703042002-11-20T01:16:00.000+08:002003-01-19T02:48:01.000+08:00

Sublimated

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-846501462002-11-17T14:11:00.000+08:002003-01-19T02:47:08.000+08:00

Cleared

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-845340032002-11-15T01:34:00.000+08:002003-01-19T02:45:59.000+08:00

Purged

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-845337272002-11-15T01:27:00.000+08:002003-01-19T02:45:02.000+08:00

Deleted

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-843700772002-11-12T01:25:00.000+08:002002-11-12T01:25:54.153+08:00

Whatever! In about an hour from now, I would be going back to school. Like a ghost that has come back to haunt me, old memories start flooding in. Though I may only see a fraction of the faces that contributed to who I am today, I can't help but be sensitive about the whole matter. For the same reason that I stepped out of the campus without a diploma, is the same reason why I'm stepping in -

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-836673072002-10-29T00:19:00.000+08:002002-10-29T00:19:44.313+08:00

A sheltered vagabond, waiting It has always been like that – a soft music accompanying my melancholy. Like a gentle tear made more fragile by the night, what silence do I seek amidst a blanket made of confusion? Would my solace be granted if I would learn how to think first, than to let my emotions come in? Some say it’s all the same. In the journey we all make, it’s not what comes first, but

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-835194832002-10-26T03:22:00.000+08:002002-10-26T03:22:06.490+08:00

For blog writers “There was no formal goodbye that day. No ‘see you tomorrow’; no ‘take care’. A simple nod was all they did say, yet they knew everything’s okay.” These were the first lines in the mind of the janitor I have not thought of a name yet. As he scraped off vandalism on the walls of the comfort room, a single line found its way through his heart. In bold black letters, someone

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-834172922002-10-24T02:47:00.000+08:002002-10-24T02:47:58.880+08:00

“You are different from what I imagined you to be, yet you are the same. A surprise package that came out better.”

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-834171432002-10-24T02:44:00.000+08:002002-10-24T02:46:53.000+08:00

A straight circle It always starts with a conflict – a struggle from within. In the end, I know a part of me would betray me, like a hand softly trembling out of fear. Comparable to a hidden confusion is a suppressed smile. The manifestations are always there. Subtleties are like the gentle song of a mother to a child, with the former simply being near. It is a fact that the

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-828921462002-10-13T02:52:00.000+08:002002-10-13T02:52:45.000+08:00

Tangan ng tadhana Katulad ng kandilang pinipilit patayin ng hangin Iiwang bitin. Paglalaruan ang apoy Pero ‘di naman itutuloy. Katulad ng lastikong parang nais lagutin Hihigitin Hanggang humaba at susubukan Ang kakayanang ‘di maputol Saka iiwanang may buhol. Bakit ‘di pa kitilin? Nang sa ganoon ay tapusin Ba’t kailangang paglaruan Ang buhay kong tangan. Tadhana Para kang bata.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-828921322002-10-13T02:51:00.000+08:002002-10-13T02:51:24.890+08:00

Open letter What sense do we make of it all? Is it too late or too early, too crowded when you just feel lonely? It was eleven o’clock in the evening. Late as it was, I couldn’t possibly force myself to sleep at our office in Batangas City. I know I’d stay up all night thinking about everything yet end up concluding nothing. There’s something about sleeping on another place. The insomnia

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-828920472002-10-13T02:48:00.000+08:002002-10-13T02:48:37.263+08:00

“If your heart could speak out your dream, it would be in a form of a wish.”

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-827003942002-10-09T02:57:00.000+08:002002-10-13T02:49:50.000+08:00

Walang pamagat Siguro Mas maganda sigurong sabihing sigurado Na hindi ito ang huling paalam Kundi simula lamang. At sa susunod na pagkikita ‘Wag sanang makahon Sa mga salitang tulad lamang ng “Kumusta na?” At “Buhay ka pa pala.” Kahit papaano kasi Direkta man o indirekta Ang kahapong nangyari’y ‘di mabubura At ‘di maitatangging ito’y naging bahagi Nang buhay mong napakahaba Ngunit napakaiksi.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-825727652002-10-06T07:39:00.000+08:002002-10-07T02:14:55.000+08:00

Forever? it's hard to tell if i believe in forever i'm just asking for a sign and if i look would i really find the one i've built on my mind. i guess fantasy is the same as reality you'll never know the truth 'til it's over and by then would it be hard to admit amidst all my guilt, the pain i've reached that only the heart could tell we believe in forever, for it's better than never.

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-825264762002-10-05T02:36:00.000+08:002002-10-05T02:36:37.640+08:00

The sound of one heart crying Like a piece of paper being torn Like a prick in the hand from a rose's thorn Love songs played on the radio That no one could hear except you. . Sleepless nights Lifeless light The truth is painful but still it is true Sometimes The most painful tragedy comes in silence It is only you, who could hear your heart cryin'. . . .

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3833972.post-825262632002-10-05T02:30:00.000+08:002002-10-05T02:32:26.000+08:00

"The need to speak, rather than the need to be heard."

Beanshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05048283980585670455noreply@blogger.com0