Pagbubunyi.
I kept looking around the concrete walls, the glass windows and the ubiquitous Ora et Labora logo, but I only saw Irrelevance. I did not notice if I grew any taller than the rest. Neither did I notice if anyone went missing and was nowhere to be found, nor if there were new youthful acquaintances in school who needed a warm welcoming smile, a hi, a how are you, a hope you enjoy here, a sweaty palm handshake and a pat at the back, because at the back of my mind, I still believed that I was not where I was. School. The brain was intact but the mind was nonexistent, as if it temporarily wafted into a different dimension unknown to man (and woman). I thought that Today didn’t seem to be ready to welcome me, nor was Yesterday a day ago, nor will Tomorrow on the next day. Me, the same skeletal entity, the same four-eyed stress-driven workaholic organism whose seventeen year-old Catholic membership card has almost met its unprecedented expiry date. Me was lost today. Me was lost yesterday. In fact, Me have been lost for quite a long time now.
I am the laziest of all bums lah, but God just wouldn’t let me to anyhow leave my membership card un-renewed.
REST DAY ng mga magnanakaw, mga drug dealers, rapists, at ni Misis President.
MANILA, Philippines – Police in Metro Manila on Sunday said there was no reported crime incident during the most awaited title match between Philippine boxing champ Manny Pacquiao and Mexican slugger David Diaz.
“There was no registered reported incident for NCRPO for the period covered 8 a.m. to 3 p.m. during the duration of Pacquiao-Diaz fight,” said Police Dir. Geary Barias, chief of the National Capital Region Police Office (NCRPO). – GMANews.tv
There was one moment in time when selfishness and self-conceitedness dissipated, and humanity prevailed within the Filipino blood, and I forgot about personal desires and other worldly pleasures that populate my imaginations, not to mention the thought of my new rice ant, the d’monde auch, whatever; when all of a sudden the thought of becoming a boxer flew past my brain. And if I were Manny Pacquiao, I would punch Diaz to bits n’ pieces in Mandalay Bay every single day, from 8 a.m. to 3 p.m.
Para everyday, OK!
rowlandanthony
Recently turned 19, I am an International Baccalaureate slave, a Roman Catholic, now of legal age to vote, to drink alcohol, to drive, to marry, to smoke, and to f*** around. I am manufactured in the Philippines but currently utilized in Singapore. I am the thick-skinned, ingrate bastard who dumped the Government in exchange for a $100,000 two-year private scholarship. Most people in the Philippines call me Row, as a result of a passed down genetic trait that triggers laziness. Actually, my nickname is Anju, which I am really really not so fond of. But I am fortunate enough not to suffer from the ubiquitous Filipino frenzy of naming nicknames with letter 'h's sandwiched between other letters, e.g. Jhong, Jhing, Bhong, or Bhing, and from the usual repetition of the same syllables - usually created by the whole extended family giggling in delight as one utters his or her baby cry while shitting unconsciously and secretively on the lampin, inside the duyan - resulting in stuttering names like Ton-ton, Ping-Ping, Bam-bam, Ging-ging and Don-don.
I am currently having the time of my life.
