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I'm the 862,382,334 richest person on earth according to this site. do you want to know how you fare with the rest of the world? go ahead and try it.

Dove and the Waterline

Dove and the Waterline
Jeffrey Foucault

I wrote you a song from under the sky
From the field where the snow fell down
And the town threw up its light
Against the clouds into the night
Like a wall to keep the flood from bearing down

And I said hello can you help me
Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
The stars all have names
And the angels have the same
But I'm lost and so much want
To be found

I wrote you a prayer from inside the walls
Of this country where the cold wind blows
And a storm into the sea
Rang out against man's every plea
To rouse my soul and steal my body down below
And I said hello can you help me

Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
I'm cast awayInto the deep and compassed there
No soul to keepAfire and to the water burning down
And I said hello can you help me
Do you know
What I'm doing can you tell me
Where I'm bound
The stars all have names
And the angels have the same
But I'm lost and I so much want
To be found

july 18 '06

i am sooo loving this weather! the sky is downcast and the air is cool and crisp. the trees and plants look greener against the pale surroundings. everything seems to be fresh and new. there are mud puddles everywhere which one tries to miss when going out on the streets. i saw children today who were playing in the rain and how i envy them! i remember when i was small, my sisters and i used to sneak at the back of our house, away from nanang my grandma just to play and bathe in the rain. we soaked ourselves with rain water, jumping and splashing, until we get caught by nanang who would reprimand us, her shrill scolding darted towards ate, who she thought was pasimuno of it all. ha ha. the best part there was during thunderstorms. just like other kids, my siblings and I were terrified of lightning and thunder. we covered our ears at the very flash of lightning. but that didn't stop us from bathing in the rain. when lightning strikes, we dashed towards the house for protection. ofcourse we knew very well the dreadful story nanang told- of how a young girl who went to the ricefield and was struck dead, her brains scattered after being hit by a lightning. we knew too well that story. but we were children, who were brave and adventurous and mischievous. truly, pasaways. haay, gone were those days..

its mysterious how the raindrops sound when falling on our rooftop. of how it can stir up conflicting emotions upon me. i feel a certain fear or anxiety when i hear the first few big drops. like the world is going to end anytime soon. but the moment it pours, i feel the thrill and the excitement of it all. and then i go looking for sopas or noodles or champorado. and then i can go watch tv, read a book or just simply stare out the window- imagining, wondering, smiling.

resigned

july 2 '06

The more I think about it, the more pleased I am with myself. I am getting better at these. I am winning every war, slowly, but still, victorious. I do get better. People can get better. We can overcome. Isnt amazing how experience teaches us values that armor us against life s disparity? Life is never fair. It never was. I am done with that word. While I still hold that life belongs to the beautiful, beautiful ones, I am comforted. Because I know that wherever life takes me, God is there, who is just, kind and loving.


We all have different roles to play, with each and every person we have relationships with. Oftentimes I see where I am (with this one particular relationship). So clear like the rays of the sun on a fine, cloudless day. And ironically too, where I am is heartbreakingly cold, overcast, gloomy. Sometimes I am so resigned to that idea. To that role I am supposed to play. And it makes me sad. Yet I dont fight anymore. Its ok. God must have a pretty superb reason for all of these and I know I'll get an excellent back-up from Him one of these days.

The Rain's Sympathy

Death

is etched upon my mind,

as copious tears of rain

dolorously descends

from the black-veiled sky.

It's somber mood draped-

mirrors my soul's grief

for the lost

of my beloved.

The rain

falls dreary.

And I

cannot

but be

grateful

for so much

sympathy.

angie
june '97

Risking Much

April 20 '06

'To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing our true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams, before the crowd is to risk loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try at all is to risk failure.
But risk we must, because the greatest hazard i life is to risk nothing.
The man, the woman who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.'

i sure have risked a lot these past few weeks....sigh.

April 16 '06

Do people always mean what they say? And if they dont, the fact that they said it, will it be considered as half-meant? And what exactly is half-meant? Is there even such a thing?

Why is it easier to react than it is to think? Why cant we have our minds rule over our hearts most of the time? Why cant we leave our impulse down and just reflect on the best things to do? Why do we confuse people with words, words that we can never admit to ourselves, words that would make us more confused and confounded than the person we talked it over to? Is it possible to be so honest and a liar at the same time? Does it make one foolish?

I hate being this sentimental. It is summer where thoughts should be bright as the blue sky and feelings should be light as a... yep a butterfly.

my roller-coaster ride

march 21 06

the closest i can compare to my life now is a roller coaster. its a cliche i know. if i've found a better way to compare it to, i would have used it. and because my mind now, is in its dullest state ever (yes im this honest), i remain to compare it to a roller coaster. after being hailed as the employee of the month for feb, exactly a year i was awarded the same title, i am most grateful and truly happy. grateful because someone saw me in a different light. he saw how i deeply struggled to be a performer not for myself but for the team. he learned i was not a natural, but saw how i can work around it. he believed that i felt mediocre most of the time or most of my life, yet he managed to get the best in me. and how he suddenly turned from one person i feel obligated to like to someone i truly admire and would like to listen to ( while laughing at the same time!), i sure didn't know what happened. come to think of it, i think im seeing him in a different light too. i dont know what the heck happened. these days i am so fond of getting logged out to be coached by my manager. it starts with him discussing team stats and plans and dilemmas. the next thing i know, im mouthing my ideas and opinions. he looks animated, and then drops a bit of wisdom, which leads us to saying grateful praises to each other! funny! its nice- the way everything turned out. who would have thought that i would be blogging about this. sheesh, i cant help but be mushy! i noticed that for most of my dramatic moments in this company, almost everything has something to do with him. of how i can be so meek, and rude, and angry, and quiet, and thinking, and laughing and pouting..etc. wow.

now the plunging-hurling-to-the-earth part of the roller coaster... i failed QA. a week after the EOM dinner. a week after i realized these things. i feel my blood draining, i am a dissappointment. to him, to the team, to my mini-team, to myself. i definitely hurled down faster than i can imagine. its amazing i feel sad more than angry. i have accepted and admitted it. i honestly think that all those failed calls were a few of my best calls. surprisingly, i was very helpful, patient and calm with the callers. and you know what, i ought to congratulate myself for it! really! ha ha! hindi talaga ako nahuhuli ;)

i don't intend to drown in my sadness though, because i know that roller coaster is on its way up. either way, i have realized wonderful things about myself and the people around me. now i know its better to get the best of both worlds. because both ways, i still remain a winner.

dec 28 05

People Like Us
by robert bly

There are more like us. All over the world
There are confused people, who can't remember
The name of their dog when they wake up, and people
Who love God but can't remember where

He was when they went to sleep. It's
All right. The world cleanses itself this way.
A wrong number occurs to you in the middle
Of the night, you dial it, it rings just in time

To save the house. And the second-story man
Gets the wrong address, where the insomniac lives,
And he's lonely , and they talk, and the thief
Goes back to college. Even in graduate school,

You can wander into the wrong classroom,
And hear great poems lovingly spoken
By the wrong professor. And you find your soul
And greatness has a defender, and even in death you're safe.

nov 12 2005

Sa Huli
ni R. Anonuevo

Masyado nang sumusuot sa balat ang lamig.
Parang nanunukso lang ang pagsulpot sulpot
ng araw ganitong Abril sa London.
Kailangan ko nang umalis.
Tama na ang isang linggong
pagtingala sa mga palasyo at katedral.
Pag lumabis pa ritoy lilisan
na akong ang bigat na baon
ay hindi lang damit at pinamiling sapatos,
kundi hinihilang loob, na parang balat na napupuknat,
napipilas sa pinakamalalim na laman,
nahihilam sa biglang pulandit ng dugo,
namimintig sa mga luhang umiiwas mahuli
sa tarangkahan ng nakatanod na pamamaalam.

oct. 15 2005

i have forgotten how it is to blog. four months? the longest ever. my theory that blogging is a cycle, like life is, rings true. a cycle, a recurring thing. and im sure is starting it again. these four months, i have lived my life to the fullest ( according to angie's lifemeter not according to anybodys standards). im 28. im happy. i have a good paying job, i have a loving family. i have the truest of friends. i am thin. i have books- harry potter, inspirationals, oprah endorsed books, coelho. and i know the best neruda poem. i am singing. i can be funny. i love guitars.and music. i have myself and most of all i have God. and a purpose. for all of these, i am thankful and smiling and crying. i am so much blessed. and there's no better way to start this cycle of blogging with these super duper corny thoughts. ha ha!

June 26, 05

The barren branches of the trees stretch out

skyward, like old knarled hands ready for

the heavens, imploring. How long has it been

since the last rain? Many moons.

Has the Lord forgotten?

The dry winds of summer waft silent prayers

skyward; the untiring hands continue their

oblation.

Soon, soon...it will come.

LT. Zendhrane

June 18, 05

Sometimes, I feel that I have written my life on pages of some manuscript. Well, literally I have. I started writing a diary since I was 13. it was just an ordinary cheap notebook, one that I keep extra in school. After reading and getting inspired by the diary of anne frank, I put it to a good use and began writing a diary of my own. At the center of its first page, I wrote in curling letters the word DIARY. Then began my thoughts journey as a young girl. They all had to be written, oh yes they should! The everyday events-life in school and at home, some poetry I had written and some favorites, songs that I love, quotations of every kind, inspirational words. I also had a slumbook page where I wrote my favorite color, actors, singer, books, tv shows, almost everything you can find in a slum book. I was religiously writing down everything that was happening to my world. It was year after year. It was the thought of when I get older, I would have to take pleasure in reading what my thoughts were when I was in my adolescent years, and that would be wonderful and outrageous. Thats how it should be. And I was looking forward to it. I managed to do that for a few years, until my parents accidentally burned up everything. As in everything.

Two days have passed before I even knew it happened. My father went, your mommy and I cleaned up everything already, no more mosquitoes around the house, nothing more that would cause dengue. To my father, cleaning was defined as burning every piece of junk he considers. I was panicky, ano po nilinis nyo? the next thing I knew I was crying on one corner, remembering the treasures ive lost, reminiscing the times I fixed those little possessions with joy.

It wasnt only the diaries. There were letters, post-it-messages from friends, favorite subjects notebook, and my favorite book too. The lists goes on- articles and clippings, high grade test papers, published articles for our school paper, some school and personal projects, keepsakes like dried roses, corsage, candy wrappers, etc. they were all there, inside that rickety-looking cabinet of mine. I dont know if it was forgivable though. After all these months, I still remember. Its ashes muddled up with the dirt. Sometimes I think a part of me was taken away too. For someone so forgetful, its a whole lot of wealth lost. There are people who can remember most events in their life so vividly. While some unfortunately just cant. And thats me, the unfortunate me.

now i dont use notebooks that much anymore, well not like before. i still have high regards to it though, still buying notebooks from time to time, keeping it inside my fave box where nothing and no one can ever take it away from me again.

april 23 2005

sometimes i feel like i belong to the old world. where women take love as it should be. where love is pure and clean. and beautiful. serene. where love goes beyond the physical. and most of all tested by time. i hate being a traitor to my generation when it concerns to love. i know i am old fashioned as i can be but that earns respect as much as i respect those who swears love the moment they smelled it from their supposed mr perfect. i live in a world where nothing can be more casual than sex. where being a virgin is being sneered at and being sexually active is like being crowned to a hero's throne. i like love as it should be. there's more to it than sex. there's friendship, affection, ardour, compassion. and that makes it precious and wonderful.

april 10 05

heres a deeply moving account about a 13 year old jewish girl and a young seminarian from krakow, poland named Karol Wojtyla in 1945. (taken from the Roger Vohen of New York Times)

"During the summer of 1942, two women in Krakow, Poland, were denounced as Jews, taken to the city's prison, held there for a few months and then sent to the Belzec death camp, where in October they were killed in primitive Nazi gas chambers by carbon monoxide from diesel engines. Their names were Frimeta Gelband and Salomea Zierer; they were sisters. As it happens, Frimeta was my wife's grandmother. Salomea - known as Salla - had two daughters, one of whom survived the war and one of whom did not.

The elder of these daughters was Edith Zierer. In January 1945, at age 13, she emerged from a Nazi labor camp in Czestochowa, Poland, a waif on the verge of death. Separated from her family, unaware that her mother had been killed by the Germans, she could scarcely walk.
But walk she did, to a train station, where she climbed onto a coal wagon. The train moved slowly, the wind cut through her. When the cold became too much to bear, she got down at a village called Jedrzejow. In a corner of the station, she sat. Nobody looked at her, a girl in the striped and numbered uniform of a prisoner, late in a terrible war. Unable to move, Edith waited.

Death was approaching, but a young man approached first, "very good looking," as she recalled, and vigorous. He wore a long robe and appeared to be a priest. "Why are you here?" he asked. "What are you doing?" Edith said she was trying to get to Krakow to find her parents.

The man disappeared. He came back with a cup of tea. Edith drank. He said he could help her get to Krakow. Again the mysterious benefactor went away, returning with bread and cheese. They talked about the advancing Soviet Army. Edith said she believed that her parents and younger sister, Judith, were alive.

"Try to stand," the man said. Edith tried and failed. He carried her to another village, where he put her in the cattle car of a train bound for Krakow. Another family was there. The man got in beside Edith, covered her with his cloak and made a small fire.

His name, he told Edith, was Karol Wojtyla. Although she took him for a priest, he was still a seminarian who would not be ordained until the next year. Thirty-three more years would pass before he became Pope John Paul II and embarked on a papacy that would help break the Communist hold on Central Europe and so transform the world.

Edith fled from Karol Wojtyla when they arrived at Krakow in 1945. The family on the train, also Jews, had warned her that he might take her off to "the cloisters." She recalls him calling out, "Edyta, Edyta!" - the Polish form of her name - as she hid behind large containers of milk.

But hiding was not forgetting. She wrote his name in a diary, her savior, and in 1978, when she read in a copy of Paris-Match that he had become pope, she broke into tears. By then Edith Zierer was in Haifa, Israel, where she now lives.

Letters to him went unanswered. But at last, in 1997, she received a letter from the Vatican in which the pope recalled their meeting. A year later they met again at the Vatican. Edith thanked the pope for saving her. He put one hand on her head, another hand in hers, and blessed her. As she parted, he said, "Come back, my child."

truly a beautiful account. i am really saddened by our Pope's death. but it was a life greatly lived. im sure he would be praying for us all the more, now that he is in heaven with God.

march 23 05

to make sure they get by with the holy week season, globe telecom sent an sms to their subscribers. it said, "The most meaningful trip this Holy Week is down the Way of the Cross.Take time to reflect.14 stations, 1x/day. Reply with AMEN, P2.50/msg." ha ha ha, funny.


**********************************

march 5 2005

im sooo happy these days that my smile reaches to my ears. i am februarys employee of the month! just 3 or 4 days ago i was blogging on how tough the competition was with unexpected teams going up on the ranks. well, we didnt make the 3 consecutive month of being on top. but we were still winners for fighting and trying our best. and im glad to say that we played the perfect game. and unexpectedly too, i emerged a winner in some way or another, for being the employee of the month for the toughest period ever. so, i just thought maybe i ought to reward myself this time.

so heres a cute reward for myself -

in my mind and in my heart, i know that the recognition i got was the very gift itself. im so thankful to God, because He gave me this gift in what He deems is the perfect time. im forgetting their words "its long over due". im sure i deserve this today more than yesterday.

march 1 2005

we had a bargain with GOD last week. me and kathy. just a week more of a hundred percent QA LORD and then, we could fail for the next week. and the week after that. we sure were bargaining. it took our team the titans to be the number one team for 2 consecutive months- december and january. last week, we were running 2nd for the month of february already. blame it on our team manager, kokoy, who was using words like "this is our playing field" or "never did it happen that a team garnered three consecutive months of being number 1" or "this is where we are" or "we are up/down by point..." . the ultimate and scariest thing he posted in our bulletin board. it says - "WIN or lose, WE PLAYED THE BEST GAME".Ugh. the word lose was lost in the swirling designs. so the word win was magnified 100 times! plus that smug look of kokoy. its downright scary because it seems that he really believed in us. for once in my whole stay with this company, i have never thought of doing my best, as in my best till last week. at the end of the day, we all have horrible stories of what we thought were failed calls. we were paranoid to the highest level. its stretched our patience a mile long to forced humility. we were forced to be prisoners by our very selves. hey, what else can we do? most englishmen are snotty, racist and mean. we kept ourselves humble last week by being a true runner. yeah right.

and then i got a hundred percent QA. and kathy too. i can never thank GOD enough. we were blessed as always. it paved off after all. whew... if we made it to number 1, we still dont know yet. three of our team mates failed. we sympathize with them. i know how that must have felt. but the good news is we all played the game well, regardless of what kokoy and the other people think, we played the game the best way we can. this week i intend not to entertain the least pressure from work. and i really mean it.

Thats All I Ask of You

No more talk of darkness,

Forget these wide-eyed fears,

Im here nothing can harm you

my words will warm and calm you

Let me be your freedom

let daylight dry your tears

Im here with you, beside you to guard you to guide you...

Then say youll love me...every winter moment,

turn my head with talk of summertime

say you need me with you now and always

promise me that all you say is true

that's all I ask of you

Let me be your shelter

let me be your light

you're safe no one will find you

your fears are far behind you...

all I want is freedom a world with no more night,

and you, always beside me to hold me, and to hide me

then say youll share with me one love, one life time

let me lead you for your solitude

say you need me with you here beside you

anywhere you go... let me go too
Christine that’s all I ask of you

say youll share with me one love one lifetime

say the word and I will follow you..

share each day with me each night each morning

say you love me....you know I do

Love me thats all I ask of you

dec 25 04


"then ye be glad, good people,this night of all the year,
and light ye up all candles:
His star is shining near." Merry Christmas!

dec 15 04

i earned myself a shopping spree last friday for getting two weeks of hundred percent QA. i was on vacation leave too which surprisingly was granted to me by my team manager at the last minute. i was denied twice for the vacation leaves i earlier applied for which were for every fridays of december. i was crazy to even think i could file vacation leaves for the oh-so-busy month of december. but what could i do? i just needed a break and have my christmas shopping done. in an instant though, after days of worrying and finally giving in to my desperate case, a miracle was bound to happen. i was to take my remaining vacation leaves each week for this month and that would include the 2 fridays that i was denied of. ha ha, what a treat. so i got the fridays alright but have i really gotten the money to spend for the planned shopping? uh oh..

consider this: i have 12 inaanaks, most of them visits me once a year and that is at christmas day. the ritual starts when my kumares will call me over the phone and will remind me that they will drop by the house on the 25th. and it never fails. they always do.

next, my friends and colleagues in the office. less than 20. not that they are expecting gifts from me though. i just want to give something for those friends whom i have shared the year with.

and then my family- my mom and my siblings. ofcourse this has got to be special especially for my mom. i rarely give her something so i want it to be really sweet this christmas.

so that's the scenario. i see a bleak future for someone earning so little, who could not even buy something good for herself. well maybe except for the second-hand books which are real treasures anyway.

the intended shopping did not happen last friday. my sis and i just made it to the movies. we had a laughing spree with bridget jones instead.

this thursday, im looking forward to my last vacation leave for the year. good luck to me.

dec 10 '04

i read the last entry i wrote here and i felt disappointed with myself. writing negatively about someone who was nice enough to greet me or invite me even to her wedding besides that fact that she really doesnt know me at all, except that we attended 1 class, just one class together in college. and she did find time to talk to me. the unpopular me. i was snotty and judgemental and mean. if this is one sloppy way of apologizing, then i hope im forgiven.

dec 6 '04
i met a school mate last friday while i was on my way home. i knew we shared one class together. one semester for one subject. when i saw her approaching, i was readying myself to smile, just to let her know that i recognize her. the funny thing was, when she saw me, she sort of put her hands to her mouth and said," uuy, kumusta ka na?!" i was quite surprised by her very bright greeting but i replied," ah, im okay". i was being questioned by a person i rarely spoke with when i was in college, not because i chose to but because we only had one class together.come to think of it, did i even speak to her in that class coz we we're numbering 50? i dont know for sure. she was firing questions that i answered promptly. saan ka na nagtratrabaho, ilang years ka na dun, may asawa ka na ba. it was a weird situation to be in. i asked her the same questions. she wasn't working anymore, got a job once but quit, and that she was getting married this december. she asked me to come to her wedding and told me the details- what day, what church, where the reception is taking place. i was thinking it was probably out of courtesy that she was mentioning all these things, but no i was wrong. when she asked me my landline number, i knew she wasnt a bit of joking. okay, fine, a wedding invitation from someone i dont even know. not even her name. hello? how weirder could it be? she was teasing me as if we were long lost friends. she was telling me that i could get lucky catching the bouquet of flowers she'll be throwing. yeah right. the thing was, i wasn't the only one who felt that the whole thing was strange. or that "she" was strange. her cousin was staring at "her" as if she's from the outer space. at last i felt the conversation was gonna end. she said, on top of it all, " anong ngang pangalan mo ulit?". "huh? ako? ah, angie. cge, alis na ko, cge.". i didnt bother asking her name. i just walked away puzzled. i couldnt take it if if it gets any bizarre than it already was.

nov. 28 '04

Forgetfulness
by Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never
even heard of,
as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.
Long ago you kissed the nine Muses goodbye and
watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,
something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.
Whatever it is you are struggling to remember it is not poised
on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.
It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.
No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up
the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

nov 24 '04

i am greatly enjoying reading kerismith blog most esp her wish jar tales. the "10 things i learned from the Ya Ya's " is a great read. its all so simply laid out- the ways on living creatively.
she cites that "your life is your art". that "what we do naturally, everyday, is the greatest source". whats nice about it is that you'll be inspired and enthused to do creative things in your life. most of the time, i feel a need to read or watch something inspirational, something happy and positive. with all the sad things going on in this world or to my world, i need to unwind and loosen up a bit. its nice discovering those kind of blogs. keri's writings and artwork is simple but meaningful. you know how we are oftentimes guilty of writing to please others, or how we wanted to be someone else or to be better. she on the otherhand, has developed to just write what ever she feels is right, to be herself as much as she can. i can go all day just reading her blog and just admiring her ideas.
in the same way that i am so into anything oprahs. her shows none of which i have found boring, her choice of books - which i am collecting, (my faves are "Angela's Ashes" and "She's Come Undone". anything oprah. i sound pretty old, with what im writing but its true. i love wit plus wisdom. inspirationals. words like roses and sunsets, meadows and mountains, moon, stars, and clouds, pristine waters, white sandy beaches, majestic lakes, quiet lazy afternoons, starlit skies.
i could go on and on. i just love beautiful and happy words. i want to be happy.