What happens on May 9?

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Our choice of president is determined by the things we value most. Sadly, we cannot find all the best qualities in any one candidate.

So it all boils down to this: do we choose diplomacy over discipline? Words over actions? Intellect over experience?

What do we want our country to be known for? Do we want a president that we can be proud of internationally? Someone who has good ties with other countries? Someone who is intellectually competent? Someone knowledgeable about military techniques and crime fighting? Someone who understands the needs of his countrymen? Or do we want a leader who sets a good example by placing himself on the job and experiencing it for himself?

I don’t know about you, but everything I mentioned above is important to me. However, it is hard for me to follow a leader who leads from a pedestal, who does only the talking but not the walking, who is all wits but without heart.

So my vote goes to that one candidate who dwells with the masses, speaks without pretenses, leads his constituents while living a simple life, and keeps his town safe at the expense of his own safety.

I want a president who is not afraid to die — because maybe, just maybe, because of him, many would become a little braver to fight, and die, for our beloved country.

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From Flowers to Sticky Notes

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It’s been exactly a year and 3 days since my ex-boyfriend proposed to me.

I hate to admit this, but I’m really a sucker at responding to acts of sweetness — especially those that many girls only dream about.

It happened on April 30, 2010, after 3 months of no communication because of our prayer covenant. Jets had just taken me home after an eventful date at our favorite April 30 hangout venue, and I had just gotten into my pambahay clothes, when I heard a familiar song playing. It was, I thought, an acoustic cover of Breathing by Lifehouse. I mindlessly sang along until I looked up at the radio, saw that it wasn’t even plugged in, and my brother was practically slamming a cell phone, with flash, onto my face. Everything was planned!

I looked outside and saw Jets singing and playing the guitar. He was doing the traditional harana! With him were some of our friends — one as backup guitarist, the other as videographer and all others, including my cousins and other family members, as spectators. Apparently, it was only my father and I who were clueless. Thanks ha. I hate being caught off guard.

Now here’s one of the two best parts: I asked, in fact I pleaded, Jets to stop singing. Not that he was out of tune — I loved every bit of it, and I appreciated all the effort. It’s just that… I didn’t know how to respond.

So naturally, because I pleaded, he stopped singing. I opened the gate, and he gave me a bouquet of roses. The neighbors were looking, and our friends were, I don’t know, teasing us? While carrying the bouquet, I wanted to go to my aunt’s house a few steps away from where I was standing to ask if they, too, were involved in the planning, but I was too shy to take the flowers with me.

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And now, the second best part: I put the bouquet on the ground. In Filipino, as Jets would put it, nilapag sa semento.

Yes, it happened, and every now and then, the same scenario of putting the flowers on the ground haunts me, and I cry out of guilt. If only I knew how to respond, I wouldn’t have hurt him with my actions.

That night, my simple reason was that the bouquet was too bongga and heavy for me to be bringing along to the kapitbahay; nobody wanted to hold it, and leaving it inside the house would take a long time and I had visitors waiting for me.

Again, I appreciated and adored everything, but I didn’t know how to respond to all these stuff while getting all the attention. It’s not everyday someone sings to you in public!

And that is the very reason why I can’t imagine how I managed to pull off and get away with his proposal, which, by the way, was carefully devised, much like that fateful night when I showed the whole world how unromantic and unappreciative I was.

I think, with time, we were able to grow and understand the things we would respond well to — which things made us comfortable, which actions made us feel loved.

What I like most about him is his sense of humor, and this video of our friends just proved how much we share the same love for fun and friendship. 🙂

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I’m a keeper of memorable stuff. I used this nameplate during my OJT at NCMH. I gave my nameplate to him in 2010, and it touched my heart knowing that he took good care of it until his proposal day. 🙂

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I love bears. And sticky notes are my thing! Can you believe he bought around 10-12 sticky note pads to write cheesy pickup lines and jokes on for this bear alone? I still have those pads, though. He wasn’t able to use them all.

Everything he prepared for his proposal was just a representation of all the things he knows about me. And boy, it was just perfect! 🙂


Check out Salt and Pepper’s blog about our love story. 🙂

Hinanakit ni Aklat: a filler

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If this post gets published, chances are I didn’t have enough time, or creative juices, to write anything. Still, I’m sure this is considered an entry for our August 31st cutoff, right, co-challengers? 😛

Because we are celebrating Buwan ng Wika at school tomorrow, and because I take care of my books so well that I see red whenever I find gruesome and highly distorted books left for moths and roaches to feed on, I might as well share, with a little tweaking, the only Filipino poem I have written, mainly as filler for The Green Board’s Filipino section. Now that’s recycling!

HINANAKIT NI AKLAT

Heto akong si Aklat,
Makulay ang pabalat,
Lalo na tuwing Hunyo
At ako’y bagong bago.

Sa oras na kailangan,
Malaya kang ako’y buksan.
Bawat salita ko’t titik,
Sa kaalaman ay hitik.

Kung may pagsusulit,
Anu pa’t di nawawaglit
Sa isip na ako’y dalhin
At dali-daling basahin.

Maging sa pagkakahimbing,
Naranasan kong ako’y yakapin,
Sa pag-asang maipapasa
Ng aklat na binabasa.

Bawat oras na pinagsamahan,
Handog sa ‘yo’y karunungan.
Walang saysay na sayangin,
Aking hangarin ay supilin.

Sa pagtatapos ng taon,
Ako nama’y huwag itapon.
Hindi mo man ako gamitin,
Ako’y mahalaga pa rin.

If I were a book and was left to die (as if it’s possible), I’d shred myself into pieces, ask help from bookworms around the city and have them force my owner to make me whole again.

Yep, I would do that.

Planning – the first step. Or so I think.

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The Blog Plan

So here goes my first shot at attempting to rebuild my writing faculties — blog planning — because I know I will get nowhere if I don’t do this.

Seriously, the planning part is just half of it. The other half is me trying to incorporate other stuff into my blog. Like this post — it doesn’t seem to be under any of the categories I listed down.

So help me God.

It doesn’t matter how slow you go as long as you do not stop.
— Confucius (says my Rewire app)