"men are polygamous in nature and we cannot do anything about it... men are also born with spades in their hands, digging their own graves as women try to let them out of it...but it takes a lot of women to do that, that is y they need more women."
but no matter how many women will help them out of the grave if they keep on digging their graves, they will never find their way out...because in truth, only ONE woman could do that...out of love...out of eternal care and unwavering endurance and sacrifices..
i hope you are not one of those men...coz my man is....
hehehe...
life's lessons...hehehe
hearts and kisses..mwahh..
Monday, July 14, 2008
Thursday, July 3, 2008
a sad reality
How does politics really work?
Even in universities, it works the same as how it works in national elections. Sometimes, i feel sad to think that these people with their young minds are already exposed to things like this – competition, power, fame…
But sometimes, there is a need to help look for leaders who could really render good services to the people. The betterment of the society relies on the people who run it, who govern it. So, it is really important that we choose leaders who work for the people and not for themselves.
School is the training ground for leaders. They are molded into good leaders if they are exposed to life’s realism. They can be good leaders if they posses “thinking minds” and “caring yet strong hearts.” They can be made into good leaders if they are molded through time and experience.
But before one could be a leader, he or she needs to run into office (in the case of student council elections but it is different in smaller organizations). There wouldn’t be a desire to run for a position but the desire to serve the students will prevail.
Now, how does politics work in school?
Just the way it is.
Popularity works in politics. That is why, those who are rich and famous end up victorious during elections. While those who are good and experienced, end up worrying about the students.
No doubt, it is a competition of who is more popular and who is not. But a good voter wouldn’t think that way. He or she wouldn’t consider the popularity of the person. It is what that person has done and what it could do if voted into the position.
I just hope everyone in my school could be good voters. I am worried of the student council. I hope, they will vote for leaders who could render good services for them.
He or she doesn’t need to be rich and popular. What is important is that he or she could is a real person and doesn’t have personal interests towards anything….
Even in universities, it works the same as how it works in national elections. Sometimes, i feel sad to think that these people with their young minds are already exposed to things like this – competition, power, fame…
But sometimes, there is a need to help look for leaders who could really render good services to the people. The betterment of the society relies on the people who run it, who govern it. So, it is really important that we choose leaders who work for the people and not for themselves.
School is the training ground for leaders. They are molded into good leaders if they are exposed to life’s realism. They can be good leaders if they posses “thinking minds” and “caring yet strong hearts.” They can be made into good leaders if they are molded through time and experience.
But before one could be a leader, he or she needs to run into office (in the case of student council elections but it is different in smaller organizations). There wouldn’t be a desire to run for a position but the desire to serve the students will prevail.
Now, how does politics work in school?
Just the way it is.
Popularity works in politics. That is why, those who are rich and famous end up victorious during elections. While those who are good and experienced, end up worrying about the students.
No doubt, it is a competition of who is more popular and who is not. But a good voter wouldn’t think that way. He or she wouldn’t consider the popularity of the person. It is what that person has done and what it could do if voted into the position.
I just hope everyone in my school could be good voters. I am worried of the student council. I hope, they will vote for leaders who could render good services for them.
He or she doesn’t need to be rich and popular. What is important is that he or she could is a real person and doesn’t have personal interests towards anything….
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
...cOz U R NuMb
“….it is hard to shout when no matter how loud your voice is, still, you can’t be heard…but it is harder to shout when you are heard yet the other person just opted not to listen..”- kled
It is hard when you are trying to communicate but the other line won’t respond even if you have tried every possible way to reach for him. Does it cost a million to send a text message? Does it cost a cent to answer a call?
The only cure for distance is communication. We are given all possible ways to communicate. Technology had given us all the means—cellphone, internet – but why is it so hard to communicate?
How can things work without communication?
I do not know if this is hard for the other person…for me it is hard. I stay at home most of the time when I do not have review classes. When I stay home, I can’t help but think of things in Tacloban.
Every night before I sleep, it hurts to think that I wouldn’t receive a “goodnight” from that person whom I consider special. It hurts to think that while I lay awake in bed for hours until dawn, he is asleep in his own bed not even remembering me. It hurts to think that being away for about a month means nothing to him. It hurts to think that while I lay with eyes open, I am wondering what he had been doing…while he stays unaware of how I am here. It hurts to wake up in the morning without his morning greetings. It hurts to go through things without his “kumusta”…but he wouldn’t know how much it hurts.
I always try to brush the feeling of emptiness and longing but it haunts me. I always wanted to bury the thought but still it lingers inside me. I hate to accept the reality that I miss him so badly…I want to deny that fact but my heart couldn’t.
How could you reside inside me for too long? Am I residing inside you too?
How would I know when you don’t even knock on my door? How would I know if you do not even draw a line to connect us?
Tell me…how will I know?
Friday, June 27, 2008
Robbery
You have taken a part of me and that can never be given back. Never can it be returned for it was consumed, it was possessed by someone else’s life. No other life can give it back, no other breath can pay it back, no other love can bring it back…even the one who have taken it away can never give it back to me…it has been consumed…it has been taken….
You have taken a part of my heart and now it isn’t complete. No cure could heal it, no patch can mend it and no cover can conceive it. The hole in my heart can never be mended for its depth can never be reached. It will stay there forever, that space you have taken. A piece from your heart cannot even complete it. My heart is incomplete but my life will always be complete despite my incomplete heart. Though it had a hole in it, it never ceased beating, it never stopped pumping blood into my body’s blood streams, it never quit loving, it never halted….it never bunged.
You have taken a part of my mind and now it’s confused. A part of it went astray and a part of it would always remind me of you. It would always flash back memories of you even if I don’t ask it to. This busy mind - so occupied, so overloaded would never miss a single thought of you. You always enter this busy mind without even asking permission to….same as you entered my heart just as you wished to and tried to get out when you want to…
Then, you have really taken a part of me….
You have taken a part of my life and I am not asking you to bring it back to me for no matter how hard you try, you can never give it back. It has drowned in tears and has succumbed in your blood. It has withered in my fears and died in your fists. It has melted in my veins and dwelled in your heart. It found refuge in you, it found its sanctuary in you but it never found comfort, and so it died.
And you really did take a part of me….and you could not bring it back. Bring it with you, its your to keep, yours to cherish—that is, if you want to. Bring it with you, it yours to rubbish, yours to bury—that is, if you want to.
Now, bring it with you…and do anything you want to…coz I’m not asking it back.
You have taken a part of my heart and now it isn’t complete. No cure could heal it, no patch can mend it and no cover can conceive it. The hole in my heart can never be mended for its depth can never be reached. It will stay there forever, that space you have taken. A piece from your heart cannot even complete it. My heart is incomplete but my life will always be complete despite my incomplete heart. Though it had a hole in it, it never ceased beating, it never stopped pumping blood into my body’s blood streams, it never quit loving, it never halted….it never bunged.
You have taken a part of my mind and now it’s confused. A part of it went astray and a part of it would always remind me of you. It would always flash back memories of you even if I don’t ask it to. This busy mind - so occupied, so overloaded would never miss a single thought of you. You always enter this busy mind without even asking permission to….same as you entered my heart just as you wished to and tried to get out when you want to…
Then, you have really taken a part of me….
You have taken a part of my life and I am not asking you to bring it back to me for no matter how hard you try, you can never give it back. It has drowned in tears and has succumbed in your blood. It has withered in my fears and died in your fists. It has melted in my veins and dwelled in your heart. It found refuge in you, it found its sanctuary in you but it never found comfort, and so it died.
And you really did take a part of me….and you could not bring it back. Bring it with you, its your to keep, yours to cherish—that is, if you want to. Bring it with you, it yours to rubbish, yours to bury—that is, if you want to.
Now, bring it with you…and do anything you want to…coz I’m not asking it back.
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