Thursday, November 6, 2014

Journal sa Katapusan ng Linggo

Setyembre 21, Linggo
Nagising ako at kumain ng almusal. Pagka-kain, pumunta ako sa aking kwarto at nagsimulang mag-design ng birthday kard. Kinopya ko ito sa isang doodle kong ginuhit noon, at pininturahan. Sa alas dos, sumakay kami kay Kumar papuntang Dhukuti, isang handicraft store sa Kupondole, para bumili ng pasalubong. 
Naghalungkat kami sa tatlong floor ng store, pero wala pa masyadong bago. Bumili ako ng pasalubong para sa mga klasmeyt ko sa eskwela sa Pilipinas. Nangutang si Abbie sakin ng 565 rupees.
Sumakay kami pauwi, at si Dad naman ay nagpalit saamin sa customer ni Kumar, dahil bibisitahin at magpapadala ng regalo sa kayo Tito Rukman, na lilipad papuntang Dubai. Sinabi ni Dad na pagbalik niya ay pipick-upin niya ako kaagad papuntang Civil Mall para manood ng sine.
Kumain ako ng tanghalian, at inayos ang mga gamit na naibili ko sa Dhukuti. Linagyan ko din ng onting detalye ang birthday kard. Tapos, chinat ko si Misha sa Facebook. Itinanong niya kung bakit kami ng pamilya ko ay tumira sa Nepal. 

Nahinto ako sa gitna, dahil pinatawag ako ni Mama at sinabi niyang si Dad ay malapit nang bumalik. Alas kwatro pa lang, at ang oras para sa sineng 'The Maze Runner' na papanoorin namin ay ala cinco. Nagpaalam ako sa kanya.

Mamaya-maya, dumating na si Dad. Huminto muna kami sa may ATM machine, at habang hinihintay ko si Dad, may anim o pitong gulang na bata na naka-ankas sa isang motorsiklo ay sumigaw ng, "Hallo!" sa may bintana ko. Ang cute naman! Mayroon rin mga binatang hipster na nag-skateboard sa sidewalk. Inisip ko na nagiging moderno na ang Kathmandu.




Pagtapos ng isang magandang ride, dumating kami sa Civil Mall ni Dad. Umakyat muna kami sa fourth floor para i-claim ang binook namin na tiket. Sunod, bumalik kami sa ground floor para magkape. Umorder ako ng 'Blended Oreo Cookies Shake' sa Himalayan Java, ang Starbucks ng Kathmandu. Inamigo ng aking Dad ang mga manager nito. (Palaging inaamigo ni Dad ang mga manager kaya palagi kaming may discount ;D Para ibalik ang pabor, nagiimbita kami ng maraming mga tao sa negosyo nila!)

Nang medyo naubos ko ang shake, isinama ako ni Dad sa Barista School ng Himalayan Java na malapit lang sa café. Palagi niya binibisita ito pagka nasa Civil Mall kami, dahil na-iinspirado siya at iniinspirado niya ang mga tao sa loob nito. May klase pa pagkapasok namin, at nagtitinginan kami ng mga estudyante. Nginitian ko sila habang kinakausap ni Dad si Tito Ram, ang manager. Palagi akong naiinteresadong makining sa mga usapan ni Dad, dahil marami akong naaaral dito. May sinabi siya na i-eenroll daw ako sa isang kursong barista sa susunod na taon, at pagnatuloy ako ang magiging pinaka-batang estudyante nila. Sumaya ako.

Sumapit na sa four forty-five, at umakyat na kami papuntang sinehan. Excited na excited ako pagupo ko sa silya sa gitna ng sinehan para sa 'The Maze Runner'. Excited na may halong takot sa gitna ng palabas. Excited pa rin paglabas sa mall at pauwi, pero wala masyadong masabi dahil andaming nangyari sa 'The Maze Runner'.

Kumain kami ng lechong manok galing sa Bhat-Bateni pang hapunan at ako ang naghugas ng plato habang binabasa ang sample ng librong 'The Maze Runner'. Wala nang ibang makausap kaya sinabi ko sa kaibigan kong si Isaiah na nanuod ako ng 'The Maze Runner' at dapat gawin niya rin yoon sa Facebook. Natulog ako bago mag hating-gabi.


Wednesday, October 8, 2014

People Whom I Admire


Malala Yousafzai
I admire Malala Yousafzai, because at a very young age, she had made and still is making a stand for education for every child, girls and boys, in her country Pakistan in the midst of oppression from the Taliban. Her story is one that inspires, pushes me to actually do something about the difficulties that surrounds us everyday, and even made me shed a tear.






Shane Claiborne
I admire Shane Claiborne, for his radical attempts with living his life the way that Jesus did, for breaking bonds in the numbness of Christianity in America, for loving the poor and the untouchables as Jesus did with nothing to lose.








Paul of Tarsus
I admire Paul, because of his fierceness and love to share the Gospel of Jesus, having no fear of prisons, whips, shipwrecks, snakes, swords, governors, and all troubles known to man. 


Benedict Cumberbatch
I admire Benedict Cumberbatch, because of his depth, prowess and flair in portraying movie, series and biopic characters, like Smaug, Sherlock, Khan, and Julian Assange. He also possesses a compelling atmosphere and charisma, which is even present in real life. I also applaud that in his talent, he reveals how under our ragged crusts, we were originally created as beautiful and magnificent creatures.






Adam Young (Owl City and Sky Sailing)
I admire Adam Young for his music he produces in his monikers Owl City and Sky Sailing, in which he has made successful a thousand times over the transporting of dreams and daydreams into songs that perfectly capture them. His songs are written in marvellous poetic prose, and he is a multinstrumentalist: he provides his simultaneously straightforward and intricate voice for the vocals, programs notes, a diverse array of sounds, and synth-workings, and plays the keyboard.


Cory Aquino and the People Power Revolution
I admire Cory Aquino and the People Power Revolution for demonstrating the true essence and ingrained values of humanity which was smothered by the corruption of evil. In the presence of adversity, which was Ferdinand Marcos' dictatorship, they, instead of using violence to achieve peace and fighting fire with fire, chose to resort to the way of Jesus, which undermined the oppressions of their world with love, humility, benevolence even though they owned only few, and amazing grace.


Dad and Mom
I admire Dad and Mom, because they are my parents, and good ones at that. They have given much to raise us children up, embodied foundational principles into our hearts and minds, taught many a good lesson, are selfless, became not only parents but bosom friends, taught us the art of joy and celebration, led me to Jesus Christ, and above all are glorifying God always. Without them, of course, I will not be here talking about people whom I admire. So, along with my admiration, I would also like to thank them with all my life.





And even though they are all people capable of failing in some measure and are already broken as all people are, I choose to honour the good and beautiful in them.


Monday, September 22, 2014

Paghusga sa Mga May-hirap






Paano maipapakita ang magandang pakikitungo sa kanila?
Sa Mahihirap
Kaibiganin at mahalin sila, unawaan ang paraan ng pamumuhay nila, sumali minsan sa pamumuhay nila, isali sila sa pamumuhay natin kahit anong paghusga ang ibibigay satin ng ibang mga tao, ipagdasal sila, at pakainin sila at damitan.


Sa Pulubi
Tumigil sa paglalakad, ngitian sila ng totoo, kaibiganin at mahalin sila, samahan mo sila, kausapin at unawaan sila na parang bago mo makilala ang matalik mong kaibigan, pakitaan sila ng magandang ugali para sila ay maturuan kung paano, ipagdasal sila, at pakainin at damitan sila.


Sa May Kapansanan
Tulungan sila kung kailangan nila noon, wag silang titigan na walang galang, kaibiganin at mahalin, pagdasalan na mawala ang kapansanan nila.





May karapatan ba ang tao na hatulan ang panlabas na kaanyuan ng kanyang kapwa?
Sa mahihirap
Wala. Lahat naman din ng tao ay mahirap sa espiritualidad katulad nila.


Sa Pulubi
Wala din. Kahit nakalagay sa kanila ang maskara ng kahirapan, tao parin sila sa loob, at kailangan nila ng tulong matanggal ang maskara na iyon. Walang matutupad kung hindi tayo lahat magtulungan.


Sa May Kapansanan
Wala. May sakit na nga sila, bakit pa kailangan masaktan silang muli?








Nota ng awtor: Sana nga lang may isang araw na pwede ko itong isagawa lahat sa aking buhay, dahil iyon ang datos ng Diyos… pero hindi pa ako makatangal ng maskara na laging kumakasya sa paghusga ng lipunan ko na mataas, komportable, at maginhawa. O, Hesu Kristo na sumama sa mga mahirap, minahal sila - anuman ang paghusga sa Kanya o sa mga mahirap, o, mga kapatid ko na may parehong puso, tulungan ninyo akong tangalin ito.

Thursday, September 4, 2014

Wake up

A/N: Originally written on April 1, 2014 after my younger sister had nightmares and a scene from my dream previous my waking up; planned to be the 28th chapter of 'Ensemble of Shards'; second version given as a gift to a dear friend on his seventeenth birthday, and this final rendering an entrant to a writing competition hosted by @RinaPOV.

~




Jakob Bennett was an actor. He was fourteen, and was pretty good at it. And, of course, Jakob Bennett was also something else. Though, I don’t know which way to put it in. The other thing he was can be hard to pin down.

Well, you know, a mare is a sort of horse, which you can ride. But nightmares aren’t the sort of horses you could ever ride on. So it wouldn’t be correct to say that Jakob Bennett was a nightmare rider. Jakob Bennett had the nightmares riding him.


--

The nightmares had started when Jakob was eight. The first one had something to do about a cold, cold lake, in a far-off place, with the blackest pine trees circling  it. And Jakob was in the lake, the chilly blue-green of it engulfing him. He could not get out, however he tried.

Jakob screamed awake, and his parents came to his aid, asking what was wrong. He lied, and murmured that it was a mouse that must’ve scurried over him. They put the blankets over Jakob again, and went back to their room, whispering about pest control. But Jakob couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. And he tip-toed over to a drawer which had a night-light that he said he was too old for to use.
The second night held another nightmare. Jakob didn’t breathe a word of this when he went down to the breakfast table, looking weary-eyed. It wouldn’t have made a change anyway, as he had forgotten that he had a bad dream the night before. He thought he had played too much on his DS video game, tired from repeating levels over and over.

But when darkness fell, the memory of it returned. He tried not to sleep, head propped up on a pillow. But gradually, his eyelids gave up. The nightmare tip-toed into his dreams.

Jakob awoke, and found tears dripping on his cheeks, and staining his blanket densely. He clicked his night-light open, and thankfully he flew into a dreamless sleep. Though, there would be a shadow sometimes, creeping on the edges of his slumbering mind. Yet he remembered the night-light, and the darkness would leave.

Two weeks he kept the light on. But the nightmares grew stronger. The night-light made no difference. Two years did they haunt him with no cure.

He could not feel himself anymore, this tiredness weighed on his school and acting career. On the night when he saw blood on his fist - he had bit down on it - he wanted the secret out. His mother took him to a therapist at day.

“You have bitten your fist, kicked your bedpost, cried awake, couldn’t move, and found yourself in the town park at dawn? Hm... Yes... Oh? You don’t remember you had this dream last night?” The specialist flipped some notes and wrote some more.

“This is pavor nocturnus, or Night Terror, my dear. Children eventually grow out of this disorder. But I suggest we meet more times after this.” She looked at Mrs. Bennett, and smiled.

The counseling was alright, but it wasn’t enough. Then they tried medicine: diazepam, antidepressants, for eight months, and they lessened the terrors for two more years. It was good, only one nightmare a week or none at all, a contrast to Jakob’s day-to-day terror spell from the former years.

“Mom,” Jakob said before sleeping. “Didn’t she say that children outgrow this? I’m thirteen.”
“They’ll go away tonight, hon.”

Jakob felt the fluffy bedcovers on him, a goodnight-kiss, and heard the door click close. He rubbed his eyes and felt the night-light switch by his nightstand. Feeling safe, he yawned.

A few minutes after Jakob was sound asleep, the door clicked open. His mother walked in, as silent as a cat. She glanced at the night-light by her son’s side, and could not stop the tears trickling away from her eyes. She knelt to his side with soft carpet brushing her knees, clasped her palms, and began to pray for Jakob.

--


Presently, Jakob and his mother were on their way to the movie set. The dawning sun shone over the sleek, black Land Rover. Jakob leaned on his window, tired with the lack of sleep. He played with the window switch, and stared at the moving pavements and grey highways glinting with sunlight. Slowly, his green eyes closed. His fingers found the empty paper bag of his McDonald’s breakfast, and placed it away from his lap.

Jakob always - since he turned fourteen, and as people whose fear have long passed still do anything to prevent them from coming back - slept when it was afternoon or if he really, really had to, at night when all the lights in the house were turned on. But nowadays, after he was cast into his first film, he found it hard to do just that.

Mrs. Bennett smiled from the driver’s seat, seeing her son grasp sleep peacefully through the mirror above the dashboard. But she lifted her eyebrows in concern when she remembered that the set would only be forty-five minutes away and he would have to wake up.

Jakob reviewed his script before his scene came on. (He didn’t really need to; after all the crew dubbed him “Jakob Two-Takes” for his perfect deliverance on set, but it doesn’t hurt to check.) Then his green eyes flickered in terror when he read one of the scenes he had skimmed over yesterday.

No, Jakob. You have to calm yourself. You can do it - after all, it’s just acting. He banged the script over his head.

“Jakob!” called the director.

He drew in a long breath, and went to the director beckoning him by the kitchen.

--

“You didn’t have to do this, Mom.”
J.J. gave his parents a look which had a lash of accusation. Then, he relaxed, but with the anger still evident.
“Good night.”
They watched him loudly push his chair back to the table, and leave the room. J.J. climbed up the stairs in a huff. He turned the gold-tinted knob of his bedroom door, not giving any notice to the ‘Keep Out’, and the Stephen Hawking signs on it. He went inside and slumped upright on his bed.
“Cut!”

--

Jakob flopped on a plastic chair for his hour-long break. There was another scene he had to do later, so he decided to get some sleep. It was five o’clock in the afternoon, and as long as it was light outside it was alright, he thought.

--

The sun had almost gone down when he woke up. The white script was on his lap, unmoved. He got up and walked over to his mother, who was arranging some props on the set to his right. Mrs. Bennett saw Jakob wave the script at her. She read the part where Jakob's finger was pointing at. The finger was trembling.

“Look, Jakob, you can do this,” she told him in a soft tone. “It’s only acting, hon.”
He hugged her suddenly, and she saw the glint of tears in his eyes.
“Son… I know it’s the trauma from the night--“ Jakob was softly sobbing. She thought it better not to say the word. “But you have to act this, Jack. Do it for J.J., do it for me. Hey, I’ll even ask the director to shorten the scene. Okay?”
She pat his back and ruffled his thick ginger hair. Jakob rearranged himself, rubbed his eyes, and trembled, “Okay.”

The bedroom was darkened, set for J.J., Jakob's character, to be filmed in for a short scene. Jakob sat on the bed, trying to push back the fear. Calm down, he said to himself, You have to calm down. You have to feel as J.J. feels, not what Jakob Bennett feels, for now. For just a short, short moment, they can film it and it’s over, quickly, and you will never have to do it again.

The director walked to him, and briefly whispered, “Remember, you are going to fall asleep. And after a few moments you have to wake up. Wake up as if you were bound deep under the water, and when your bated breath cannot hold you, you surface on the lake.”

Jakob gulped, and muttered, “Thanks for the vivid representation.” Even if he forgot all his past nightmares, the first one would always be clear like the ring of a bell. He caught his mother giving a thumbs-up, encouragingly. Reluctantly, he slid himself between the fleecy, dark blue bedcovers.

“Action!”

J.J. gave a sigh, and brushed the goldish ginger hair covering his forehead with a slightly shaking hand.
Mrs. Bennett looked on from behind the cameras, waiting for him to close his eyes. Her petition for this scene to be cut short had been approved. Especially the one where J.J. had to be shaking and kicking the pillows in agony. Thankfully, all he had to act now was closing his eyes and opening them again. That wouldn’t really be difficult for a nightmare parasomniac.

But Jakob was struggling to keep control of his self as he was lying down in the darkness. No, J.J. mustn’t feel what Jakob Bennett feels… J.J. … is supposed to dream about the parents, and not Jakob dreaming the… dreaming the… nightmares…

Mrs. Bennett saw Jakob with his eyes still wide open on the bed. Oh, Jakob, my word…

“Cut. Jakob Two-Takes, let’s have another take,” sympathized the director. Jakob blinked and took a sharp breath. “Take Two.”

Then the cameras rolled. J.J. prolonged his eyes from closing. It’s too dark… I can’t… close them… screamed the Jakob inside. The terror was beginning to lightly wrap him.

“Cut!” His mother went to the bedside. “Jakob Mikhael Bennett. Do as you are told.” Jakob looked at her with dark, pleading eyes on the verge of tears. She kissed him on the forehead. “Let’s go,” said the director. The cameramen clicked play.




Jakob closed his eyes.



“Jakob! Jakob! Jakob!” The crew scattered all around him, efforts in vain. His mother fell on her knees, the tears shaking her fragile frame. Jakob always woke up from the nightmare when she shook him to wake up to her, those hard nights back then. And she would comfort him until the tears stopped falling. Anything, anything, just to save her beloved son from the fear.

The icy lake was there. He gave a last, desperate cry, held his breath, and dove in from the quay as the pine trees began to crash down on him.

“Jakob! Jakob! Wake up! Wake—“




Jakob didn’t open his eyes.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Importansya ng Edukasyon

"Edukasyon para sa paunlaran ng bansang Pilipinas! Edukasyon para mabuhay ng iyong bayan! Edukasyon para sumagana ang iyong bahay! Para sa buhay! Para sa hiling ng yumaong hindi na nila naikilos! Para sa iyo! Para sa iyong pamilya't kaibigan! Para sa kaaway, na maibalik sila sa iyong pabor!"

O, pano mo mababasa ang talatang iyon, kung walang edukasyon? Pano mo maiintindihan kung hindi ka manlang dumaan sa pag-aral? At kung nasipsip ito ng iyong puso at nais mong ibigay ang salitang ito sa iba, aling paraan ang gagamitin mo? 

Kailangan natin ang edukasyon para mabuti ang ating mga buhay. Yoon naman ang dahilan na tayo'y mayroong mga bahay, pagkain, pera, at libangan. Dahil dito ang tauhan ay nakayari ng maraming kamangha-manghang bagay; nabigyan ng kasiyahan ang mga kagawad; natulungan sa paghanap sa katotoohanan at paglaman ng tama at mali; at nauunawaan ang mga asal na bigay ng Diyos at naitakda ito para siya'y nabigyan ng luwalhati.

Pero paano ang mga tao, mga bata't matandang hindi naka-pasok sa eskwelahan, hindi naturuan ng guro? Kailangan rin nating ibigay sa kanila ang edukasyon, una, dahil maiitataas nito ang buhay nila galing sa abo, pangalawa, kailangan ng mundo ang lahat na tulong na kailangan nito, pangatatlo, para bigyan sila ng dunong pagtira sa lipunan at para paunlarin pa ito ng lubos, at pinal, dahil isa din itong karapatan bilang tao: dapat pantay ang lahat.

Binibigyan tayo ng alay para ibahagi uli sa iba. Sa pagkasabi niyan, pinagpala tayo ng Diyos ng edukasyon para gamitin itong pagtulong sa ating sarili, muna, at pagkatapos sa kapwa. Isa itong napakanimportanteng pundasyon para sa buhay, isang kapangyarihan na pwedeng yanigin ang mundo para sa mas mabuti. 

In Which I Tell People How To Make Milo


(transplanted from "What are the odds?")

YEAH. Anyone who thinks this is legit raise their hand. Whatever, here goes.


Nope, sir, this is a cup of coffee. The sun has gone down now, so the step-by-step photos will come tomorrow, promise.


How to Make a Milo That is Just the Right Flavour and Does Not Burn Tongues!


Milo in a mug is a nice, hot drink sometimes served in cafeterias and hybrid sari-sari stores. You can pay the alé just a few coins, sit on one of the outlet's plastic chairs and wait for a steaming cup of it to be served to you, snacks optional.
But if you'd like to make it at home, instantly, not procrastinating while waiting for your drink to cool down, and if the servers always miss your preferred application of ingredients or they splurge on them, check out this successful formula.


You will need:
  • Milo drink powder from the big packet (if it's in a 3-in-1 packet, it will defeat the very purpose of this essay, so please don't use that one, take the not 3-in-1)
  • Powdered milk (Alaska, Bear Brand, Nido, doesn't matter)
  • Sugar
  • A fair-sized mug
  • Teaspoon
  • Boiling water from the kettle or thermos
  • Room temperature water



    NIDO IS EXPENSIVE. can you see the price?




Before everything else, guarantee you have a stand-by kettle or thermos with hot water inside.
Okay? Okay.


First, gather your ingredients, mug and utensil.


Next, cut the plastic of the Milo, just by the mouth of it, NOT in the middle, I say, what the crack are you thinking!and take the lids off the cans of powdered milk and sugar.


Then, measure two teaspoons of milk, sugar and Milo, no more no less, and pour carefully into the bottom of the mug.





After, take your kettle/thermos with piping hot water, and precisely pour 6/8 of it into the mug. The powders will immediately dissolve. But, they need a little help, though, to be distributed nearly equally in the glass of liquid.


So, take the previously used teaspoon and stir it clockwise or counterclockwise, depending on your handedness, for five seconds.


Using left here was a challenge :L



After blending them, pour room-temperature water in the mug, till there's only a pinky-fingernail gap between the liquid and possible overflowing Milo liquid that slides off the cup's mouth and will annoyingly stick to your fingers. Mix it again, so the coolness will diffuse the warmth.


Finally, you can serve it to your mom and see how she covertly appreciates not burning her tongue and for that just-right flavour.


I'm not mom btw xD but I guess I did stir her Milo that Saturday when I took the pictures


One more note. If you still think that the Milo, milk or sugar flavour is paltry, feel free to add half a teaspoon or one more of the ingredient into your cup. And if you would rather have another chocolate malt drink, like Ovaltine or Horlicks, shame you can replace the Milo words in the text above with it. Also, if your mom doesn't like it, then she's wrong.

One statement.

WELL.
I've pretty much not posted on this place for a year and a day.
Mostly because I have another blog, What are the odds? to dote upon. And I pondered, after a year of having quite abandoned this blog, about what I should do with two Bloggers in my hands.
By then I had published more-or-less proper blogposts on What are the odds? And I found some articles were out of place with the odd theme of that blog. They were the essays and stuff I wrote for school, and of course they were out of place because WAO was kinda personal. But I still wanted them posted on the Internet somewhere. Then I get a flashbulb, haha, "WHY NOT ON ON WINGS LIKE EAGLES??" That idea was ace.

Now, I renovated it a bit, and spent the last precious 30 minutes of my night free time searching for a theme like on Tumblr. The customising fazed me, so I resolved myself to a classic Blogger theme, which you see now. And then I wrote this announcement.

I bet you're all looking at me with Thibaut's face… or Diego's - doesn't matter, they look the same
So I guess I'll be posting on this outlet again? ;) Expect Greatness.

ENJOY MY SCHOOL POSSESSIONS!!!!

P.S. I'm still going to edit my "about" page, because my eyes hurt reading it. Please don't read it right now.