Mar 31, 2010
Mar 26, 2010
Mar 20, 2010
Taking the next step in rest and space efficiency, Russia’s Arch Group designed the SleepBox.
There's a lot of stuff happening outside. The MMDA giving a ticket to someone (who is being bribed in return), the taxi who almost hit you, the sampaguita vendor making limos, the traffic-less bus lane (!)...
But besides those stuff, you sometimes think about the relationship you could have saved if you were only more understanding and giving, regrets, your life after college, what lies ahead - the unknown.
It may be in driving or traveling that you are capable of giving out good insights, not directly of course to what you see around you. Somehow, we are less preoccupied, more alone and that may be the only time wherein we can reflect on what we have and will be doing.
Mar 19, 2010
Mar 14, 2010
I learned so much last night - about the complexities of most people’s relationships and how much these people still devote time, effort and emotion into something contingent and uncertain.
I learned that amidst this world of exploitation of the poor and the flesh, of quick gratification and easy way-outs, of social-fulfilling stereotypes and pressure to not show “weakness”, there are still people who have the disciple, respect and purity of intention even though it is not demanded.
The world needs more people like them.
Mar 12, 2010
is falling in love
with the past. Or believing
the past is writing you letters –
handwriting in an old
English script, letters
enough to hold
you hostage — because you know
how close you are. Just a curve
away from knowing. Outside,
a cricket is kissing
the land, which must be like
falling in love with a pile
of borrowed books, exhaling
into it, dust floating
before leaving. It must be like finding
yourself groping the space
where the covers of returned novels
used to end, like sighing
into a harmonica — lightly
enough to keep the silence,
only crickets, and the invisible
notes of sadness.
Mar 10, 2010
There was a time before when I looked to my right, as I was sitting at the end of a silent, dim corridor of the right wing of the main building, that I had a compelling vision. There's a row of benches from the main door welcoming every passing stranger or student who happens to yearn for a destination at each wing, at the left is the pharmacy side, and at the right is the science side. At night, both turn into the commanding state of courtroom academe where the civil law students hold their night to night pursuit of reason either to defend or to prosecute with accordance to the blindfolds of the law.