When I was a child, I have already known that monsters are real for I have met one... two... no, three... when I am all alone and no one is around, the monsters would crept into my room... I would not scream, nor shout as I was told that I would not be hurt... I would only whimper in silence as I watch the monsters devour every little pieces of my precious treasures... The monsters would let me play and they were successful in making me their prey... I thought it was okay only to find myself digging my own grave.... I was able to escape but the scars were so horrible it remained... I tried to hide it and although no one has seen it, I have already become a slave to my past...
Now that I am old, the monsters still exist... Although they could no longer scare me as they could no longer dare to come near me but I am afraid that they are going to make my little angels their prey... I am not always at their side and I wish there is something I could do to make the monsters go away, but my hands are tied, bound by the law created by men...
I should have spoken but Justice was blind... I thought of doing it now but who would believe a rebellious and deviant lass? Veracity maybe mine but credibility is theirs... How could I speak when every time my mouth opens their ears are covered... Even though I knew I was not the only one but the others also chose to be mum...
Lost Sense
Jun 8, 2010
And now, here comes anger...
Seeing my mother lying in her bed crushes my heart into a million pieces. As always, i can not stand watching her knowing that she can not see anything nor feel anything because almost all of her sensory networks had been destroyed. If one will see my mother right now he would think that my mom is physically well as she seems fine and okay. She can look right into one's eyes and speak as if she's not suffering from something and that she is okay as normal. But one will be surprised if he'd find no reaction from her if he would hit her with a belt's buckle or maybe a 2x2 plywood as she can no longer determine the difference of being tapped on the shoulder from being slapped on the arms. What is more terrifying is her inability to see what is going on around her or what is someone doing to her.
Just a month ago I have finished reading Yancey's book, Where is God When it Hurts? The book speaks most of the leprosy patients and the diabetics whose sensory networks are ruined because of the malady they have acquired. According to Yancey, the boils and sores all over their body worsened not because of their sickness but because of their inability to feel the pain; they would not know that they are already bleeding from their scratches unless they see the blood seeping on their skin. I do not want to think that the reason why the book was given to me so to prepare myself from this because I do not want to think that God has planned this all along. For this reason, I have let myself be consumed of anger because I do not want to get the gist of why this had happened to us. I wish not to know the reason because for sure I would only defy it which would only inflict hatred in my heart. But honestly, I would love to know the reason why but I don't think I have the courage to take it in.
People may not understand why I am feeling this and I really don't care if they could not. They're not in my shoes and it's not their mother who had lost her sense of touch and sense of hearing. It's not their mother who's posed in so much danger because her senses could no longer protect her from environmental hazards.
0319angered100806
Seeing my mother lying in her bed crushes my heart into a million pieces. As always, i can not stand watching her knowing that she can not see anything nor feel anything because almost all of her sensory networks had been destroyed. If one will see my mother right now he would think that my mom is physically well as she seems fine and okay. She can look right into one's eyes and speak as if she's not suffering from something and that she is okay as normal. But one will be surprised if he'd find no reaction from her if he would hit her with a belt's buckle or maybe a 2x2 plywood as she can no longer determine the difference of being tapped on the shoulder from being slapped on the arms. What is more terrifying is her inability to see what is going on around her or what is someone doing to her.
Just a month ago I have finished reading Yancey's book, Where is God When it Hurts? The book speaks most of the leprosy patients and the diabetics whose sensory networks are ruined because of the malady they have acquired. According to Yancey, the boils and sores all over their body worsened not because of their sickness but because of their inability to feel the pain; they would not know that they are already bleeding from their scratches unless they see the blood seeping on their skin. I do not want to think that the reason why the book was given to me so to prepare myself from this because I do not want to think that God has planned this all along. For this reason, I have let myself be consumed of anger because I do not want to get the gist of why this had happened to us. I wish not to know the reason because for sure I would only defy it which would only inflict hatred in my heart. But honestly, I would love to know the reason why but I don't think I have the courage to take it in.
People may not understand why I am feeling this and I really don't care if they could not. They're not in my shoes and it's not their mother who had lost her sense of touch and sense of hearing. It's not their mother who's posed in so much danger because her senses could no longer protect her from environmental hazards.
0319angered100806
Emotional Blindness
Jun 4, 2010
Call me selfish, call me bitter, call me chicken, but how can one run away from a quandary in a labyrinth?
It was Monday, May 31st. At around 7 in the morning, I was awakened by my mother's cry, calling for my youngest sister's name. She was complaining about something I did not understand; perhaps she was nagging again, i thought, as she usually does. I closed my eyes and was about to take my 30 minutes of sleep back when finally my ears caught the words my mother was muttering --- SHE COULDN'T FEEL ANYTHING. I got out from my bed and walked to her room, the door was open and I saw her leaning on the wall. I helped her sit at the edge of her bed as she continued mumbling, "WALA KO KASABOT SA AKONG GIBATI. WALA NA KO'Y MA.FEEL " She was in the state of panic and I spared no effort to make her calm but she kept on weeping. I was not sure if it was terror that consumed me or what. I HONESTLY DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO. She was sweating profusely but her hand was very cold. I then yelled for my sister who came in a jiffy. She started massaging my mom's right arm and told me to wake my younger brother up to ask for help from my relatives who were just in the neighborhood.
When my aunties and cousins came, we then decided to admit her in a hospital as we have no idea on what was happening to her. My youngest sister was crying, venting her fears of what would happen to our mom. I, on the other hand, tried to console her AS I SEARCHED FOR MY EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DEEP INSIDE. Should I be crying as well or terrified maybe? MY MOTHER WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ATTACK NO ONE OF US KNEW. I watched my cousin carry my mother on his back as she could not stand on her feet. I then felt helpless. There was nothing I could do but watch them help my mother out. My brother called for a cab and together with my sister they took my mom to the nearest hospital, where my father breathed his last air.
I was left in the house with the defeaning silence. I must be in a shock but honestly I could not determine what I felt. THERE WAS NO TEARS NOR PAIN, FEAR NOR ANGER --- THERE WAS ONLY NOTHING. I contacted my colleagues at school to inform them that I could not come to work because of an emergency. I went back to my room and laid myself on the back in the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. I was in that position when few hours later the phone rang. I went down to the living room to pick it up and was dumbfounded after hearing what my sister had to say --- my mom suffered from a mild stroke and temporarily in the state of blindness. My sister said she can still see although blurry and the doctor said she would regain her eyesight perhaps in a day or two but still it was no guarantee. I put the phone down with apprehension as I thought of my mom --- NOT HER EYESIGHT. Knowing my mother, one thing that she really hates is to feel worthless and useless. My sister said that OUR MOTHER HAD BECOME FRANTIC AND SELF-PITYING. She kept on telling my siblings that she had gone invalid and of no use. She was worried that she could no longer go back to work and that we would be in the red because aside from the house expenses and bills we would also have to pay for her medication.
Four days later, Friday, June 4th. It was pass 7 a.m. when my youngest sister came home to inform me of mom's CT scan result. A BLOOD CLOT WAS FOUND ON ONE OF HER BRAIN NERVES although it was just a dot. The doctor said that the blood clot could have probably been formed when she suffered from typhoid fever during her younger days. Aside from that, CHOLESTEROL BUILD UP WAS SPOTTED IN THE WALL OF HER ARTERIES. SINCE MY MOTHER IS DIABETIC, the doctor added that her sugar level should be monitored as well and that INSULIN INJECTION WOULDN'T WORK WITH HER ANYMORE CAUSE IT MIGHT TRIGGER ANOTHER ATTACK thus they gave us another prescription that would regulate her blood sugar level. But they said that she might be discharged from the hospital today. However, at around 8 in the evening I received a call from my third older sister and spurted out the news I was wishing not to hear --- MOM HAD BECOME BLIND. Although it would only be for six months but it won't change the fact that she has gone blind. She has lost her eyesight and it would be impossible for her to return to work. Again, THE FEELING OF NOT KNOWING WHAT TO FEEL STORMED OVER ME. Should I cry or should I be angry? Should I be upset or should I be accepting?
WHEN MY FATHER DIED FOURTEEN YEARS AGO, I WAS IN A TERRIBLE SHOCK BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT I FELT. Sure I cried, I CRIED SO HARD THAT MY EYES COULD DRY BUT I WAS NOT REALLY SURE OF WHAT I HAD FELT. Perhaps it was the young age that made me forget the emotion I clinged to during that time. Fourteen years later, my mother suffered from the same attack only no blood clotted on his brain, he was not blinded, and was not diabetic. I AM NOW THREE AND TWENTY TURNING FOUR AND TWENTY BUT IT SEEMS THAT MY EMOTIONAL RESPONSE HAS NOT CHANGED AT ALL -- acting normally as if nothing had happened.
So tell me, how can one run away from the quandary in a labyrinth?
231440em04062010
It was Monday, May 31st. At around 7 in the morning, I was awakened by my mother's cry, calling for my youngest sister's name. She was complaining about something I did not understand; perhaps she was nagging again, i thought, as she usually does. I closed my eyes and was about to take my 30 minutes of sleep back when finally my ears caught the words my mother was muttering --- SHE COULDN'T FEEL ANYTHING. I got out from my bed and walked to her room, the door was open and I saw her leaning on the wall. I helped her sit at the edge of her bed as she continued mumbling, "WALA KO KASABOT SA AKONG GIBATI. WALA NA KO'Y MA.FEEL " She was in the state of panic and I spared no effort to make her calm but she kept on weeping. I was not sure if it was terror that consumed me or what. I HONESTLY DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO. She was sweating profusely but her hand was very cold. I then yelled for my sister who came in a jiffy. She started massaging my mom's right arm and told me to wake my younger brother up to ask for help from my relatives who were just in the neighborhood.
When my aunties and cousins came, we then decided to admit her in a hospital as we have no idea on what was happening to her. My youngest sister was crying, venting her fears of what would happen to our mom. I, on the other hand, tried to console her AS I SEARCHED FOR MY EMOTIONAL RESPONSE DEEP INSIDE. Should I be crying as well or terrified maybe? MY MOTHER WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF AN ATTACK NO ONE OF US KNEW. I watched my cousin carry my mother on his back as she could not stand on her feet. I then felt helpless. There was nothing I could do but watch them help my mother out. My brother called for a cab and together with my sister they took my mom to the nearest hospital, where my father breathed his last air.
I was left in the house with the defeaning silence. I must be in a shock but honestly I could not determine what I felt. THERE WAS NO TEARS NOR PAIN, FEAR NOR ANGER --- THERE WAS ONLY NOTHING. I contacted my colleagues at school to inform them that I could not come to work because of an emergency. I went back to my room and laid myself on the back in the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. I was in that position when few hours later the phone rang. I went down to the living room to pick it up and was dumbfounded after hearing what my sister had to say --- my mom suffered from a mild stroke and temporarily in the state of blindness. My sister said she can still see although blurry and the doctor said she would regain her eyesight perhaps in a day or two but still it was no guarantee. I put the phone down with apprehension as I thought of my mom --- NOT HER EYESIGHT. Knowing my mother, one thing that she really hates is to feel worthless and useless. My sister said that OUR MOTHER HAD BECOME FRANTIC AND SELF-PITYING. She kept on telling my siblings that she had gone invalid and of no use. She was worried that she could no longer go back to work and that we would be in the red because aside from the house expenses and bills we would also have to pay for her medication.
Four days later, Friday, June 4th. It was pass 7 a.m. when my youngest sister came home to inform me of mom's CT scan result. A BLOOD CLOT WAS FOUND ON ONE OF HER BRAIN NERVES although it was just a dot. The doctor said that the blood clot could have probably been formed when she suffered from typhoid fever during her younger days. Aside from that, CHOLESTEROL BUILD UP WAS SPOTTED IN THE WALL OF HER ARTERIES. SINCE MY MOTHER IS DIABETIC, the doctor added that her sugar level should be monitored as well and that INSULIN INJECTION WOULDN'T WORK WITH HER ANYMORE CAUSE IT MIGHT TRIGGER ANOTHER ATTACK thus they gave us another prescription that would regulate her blood sugar level. But they said that she might be discharged from the hospital today. However, at around 8 in the evening I received a call from my third older sister and spurted out the news I was wishing not to hear --- MOM HAD BECOME BLIND. Although it would only be for six months but it won't change the fact that she has gone blind. She has lost her eyesight and it would be impossible for her to return to work. Again, THE FEELING OF NOT KNOWING WHAT TO FEEL STORMED OVER ME. Should I cry or should I be angry? Should I be upset or should I be accepting?
WHEN MY FATHER DIED FOURTEEN YEARS AGO, I WAS IN A TERRIBLE SHOCK BUT I CAN'T REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT I FELT. Sure I cried, I CRIED SO HARD THAT MY EYES COULD DRY BUT I WAS NOT REALLY SURE OF WHAT I HAD FELT. Perhaps it was the young age that made me forget the emotion I clinged to during that time. Fourteen years later, my mother suffered from the same attack only no blood clotted on his brain, he was not blinded, and was not diabetic. I AM NOW THREE AND TWENTY TURNING FOUR AND TWENTY BUT IT SEEMS THAT MY EMOTIONAL RESPONSE HAS NOT CHANGED AT ALL -- acting normally as if nothing had happened.
So tell me, how can one run away from the quandary in a labyrinth?
231440em04062010
Life: Bowling
Nov 4, 2009
I was playing bowling with my colleagues when another dreadful realization occurred to me --- I have lived my life the way I have played the bowl.
At times I could get a strike without even knowing how I did it. At times I could get a gutter ball even though I was trying hard to aim for the goal. Sometimes I could knock four, three, two even one pin out but most of the time I could knock six to eight pins out - nine pins down would be rare. Then I would try hard to concentrate. I would try to recall what were my stances when I struck the bowl. How did I position my feet, my hands, the ball; what was I feeling, thinking, or even eyeing for. I could not seem to recall anything but I have to set the ball on. As the ball went to the gutter when I released it from my charge, it was in this juncture that the realization dawn onto me.
I was not supposed to feel disappointment as it was just a game but sometimes a man's method of playing a game is a reflection of how he is living his life.
Over the years I have been trying to figure out why my life seemed to be in disarray. Although I've got my triumphant moments but most of the time I feel like I have accomplished nothing. Mediocrity is no longer unusual to me. Ere long I have accepted the fact that I am a jack-of-all-trades but a master-of-none. I tried to establish a focal point but akin to my bowling, once I pick to give the shot it would turn up futile.
Most of the people who knew me think that I am someone prodigious. Some are intimidated by the way I talk and by the way I project myself to the public. They think I am someone smart, a know-it-all human being, a gifted one. Just because my English vocabulary is not as vast as theirs; just because I speak American English as nearly as a native; just because I’ve got an immense passion for literature; just because I can write poetry; just because I prefer scrabble, boggle, and other word-related games; just because I know some things which an average people really don’t --- these do not make me someone exceptional. These do not make me someone different. These do not make me someone special.
For some reasons, I have become shattered on how I was living my life. I could not get the gist why I couldn’t be consistent in playing the bowl. I could hit a strike without even doing something, and I could get a gutter ball when I am exerting an effort. I could smite one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, even nine pins but incongruously. I don’t know why I keep on aiming for a perfect strike when I know for a fact that it does not happen all the time. Unfortunately, this is how I view some aspects of my life. I seek for perfection despite knowing that achieving it is beyond possibility. That is why, it is such a dreadful realization; I have lived my life the way I have played bowling --- mediocrity.
At times I could get a strike without even knowing how I did it. At times I could get a gutter ball even though I was trying hard to aim for the goal. Sometimes I could knock four, three, two even one pin out but most of the time I could knock six to eight pins out - nine pins down would be rare. Then I would try hard to concentrate. I would try to recall what were my stances when I struck the bowl. How did I position my feet, my hands, the ball; what was I feeling, thinking, or even eyeing for. I could not seem to recall anything but I have to set the ball on. As the ball went to the gutter when I released it from my charge, it was in this juncture that the realization dawn onto me.
I was not supposed to feel disappointment as it was just a game but sometimes a man's method of playing a game is a reflection of how he is living his life.
Over the years I have been trying to figure out why my life seemed to be in disarray. Although I've got my triumphant moments but most of the time I feel like I have accomplished nothing. Mediocrity is no longer unusual to me. Ere long I have accepted the fact that I am a jack-of-all-trades but a master-of-none. I tried to establish a focal point but akin to my bowling, once I pick to give the shot it would turn up futile.
Most of the people who knew me think that I am someone prodigious. Some are intimidated by the way I talk and by the way I project myself to the public. They think I am someone smart, a know-it-all human being, a gifted one. Just because my English vocabulary is not as vast as theirs; just because I speak American English as nearly as a native; just because I’ve got an immense passion for literature; just because I can write poetry; just because I prefer scrabble, boggle, and other word-related games; just because I know some things which an average people really don’t --- these do not make me someone exceptional. These do not make me someone different. These do not make me someone special.
For some reasons, I have become shattered on how I was living my life. I could not get the gist why I couldn’t be consistent in playing the bowl. I could hit a strike without even doing something, and I could get a gutter ball when I am exerting an effort. I could smite one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, even nine pins but incongruously. I don’t know why I keep on aiming for a perfect strike when I know for a fact that it does not happen all the time. Unfortunately, this is how I view some aspects of my life. I seek for perfection despite knowing that achieving it is beyond possibility. That is why, it is such a dreadful realization; I have lived my life the way I have played bowling --- mediocrity.
a very bad day
Oct 19, 2009
I am totally upset right now that I wanted to shout and scream at the top of my lungs. My day was not really that bad until the trojans and worms began pestering my laptop. I know, I could have stopped it but was so insistent in downloading a file disregarding the possibility that it would harm my computer. Thus I am paying for my negligence right now.
Another thing that caused my blood rushing to my head was my sister's inability to do what I have asked her to do. I don't know if she is being stupid or she is being overwhelmed by the company that she has found with her college friends. She just threw my hard-earned two hundred and twenty bucks away.
Another thing that caused my blood rushing to my head was my sister's inability to do what I have asked her to do. I don't know if she is being stupid or she is being overwhelmed by the company that she has found with her college friends. She just threw my hard-earned two hundred and twenty bucks away.
Back to Stars Hollow
Oct 4, 2009
At long last! After searching for months and months I finally found a website that streams Gilmore Girls past episodes!
I was not able to contain my excitement as I relentlessly browsed over the website to check the past episodes - especially those I haven't seen - online. One can really say that I am filled with thrill as I watch the first episode with all smile. I can feel my eyes glowing and for some reasons I can't stop giggling as I sang along with Carole King. Oh... how I love Gilmore Girls! The fast-paced dialogues, the petty and big arguments, the parent-child relationship, love, friendship, everything! I love everything about the Gilmore Girls... (I don't sound to be a big fan, right? ^_^)
Sigh... I am jumping back again to my fantasy world. Anyway... back to Stars Hollow now... XD
PS. I have posted the link for Gilmore Girls free online streaming... some might want to check it... (Go ahead, you won't regret it... XD)
I was not able to contain my excitement as I relentlessly browsed over the website to check the past episodes - especially those I haven't seen - online. One can really say that I am filled with thrill as I watch the first episode with all smile. I can feel my eyes glowing and for some reasons I can't stop giggling as I sang along with Carole King. Oh... how I love Gilmore Girls! The fast-paced dialogues, the petty and big arguments, the parent-child relationship, love, friendship, everything! I love everything about the Gilmore Girls... (I don't sound to be a big fan, right? ^_^)
Sigh... I am jumping back again to my fantasy world. Anyway... back to Stars Hollow now... XD
PS. I have posted the link for Gilmore Girls free online streaming... some might want to check it... (Go ahead, you won't regret it... XD)
When Selfishness Is The Last Resort
Aug 17, 2009
A week ago in my Euthenics class I conducted a team-building activity which I have gotten during the YMCA's Volunteers Training on July 25. I intended to measure the decision-making ability of my students that's why I decided to incorporate it in one of my classes.
The activity was called "Survival". The class was divided into four groups and each group is composed of 7-8 members. The goal was to choose 5 persons who will be saved from their sinking ship. I told my students not to make self-sacrifices for in real life when one faces an accident or emergency, the first person he would usually save is himself. Furthermore, I also instructed them that they have to be able to come up with a decision after 30 minutes.
I have expected that my students would think inside the box. Hence, the difficulty in settling up their minds. I knew that the thirty-minute time frame would be very short but I did it on purpose to stir their minds more. A dispute or argument was suppose to surface, fortunately my students were open-minded enough. Their only trouble was choosing the right persons to save. During the activity, one of the groups came to me and asked if it is okay if all of them in their team would be saved. I just reminded them of my instruction. No self-sacrifices. I then told the class that sometimes, it is fine to be selfish. One just have to be selfish in tough times in order to survive. I knew that some of them would not accord with my line of thinking but I did not bother. I just wanted to know how are they going to decide on it.
At the end of the activity, each group were able to name the people who were saved. After which, I asked one of them what was their method of choosing those people. One group had a voting, while the others chose the 5 persons according to their missions in life. I could have told my students that some of them still made self-sacrifices but did not elaborate on it instead disclosed the lesson of the activity.
Some of my students shared that they did not think of breaking the rules and that they were held between making the wrong decisions and the idea of self-sacrifices. I then related to my students that in life, when one is faced of making a very tough decision he must contemplate on it first. Thinking outside the box would not hurt nor thinking of oneself's welfare. I reiterated that sometimes it is okay to be selfish. One does not have to follow what others are saying. One does not have to conform with what the situation can give. Sometimes, one just have to be selfish by following what his heart is saying. If his heart is saying to save himself to save others then there is nothing wrong with defying what was given. Sometimes, when selfishness is the last resort, one must go with it in order to accomplish what needs to be accomplish. Lastly, I made an emphasis on the type of selfishness that I have been hinting to my students during the activity. The personal desire to help others in times of their need. The personal desire to make others happy. The personal desire to give one's life for the sake of others.
The Night Before Her Death
Aug 6, 2009
In my last blog, I have admitted that I was not really affected by the former President Aquino's death. Until now, I am still trying to figure why however I could not find the reason why.
When I heard that she was diagnosed with colon cancer I just felt nothing. I even get annoyed everytime I hear news about her. I mean, come on, she's on stage four and no matter how many prayers you are going to offer her I just don't think it would work.
I refused watching tv and read internet news update because I know the media will just be talking about her. The last time I got interested with current events was during Michael Jackson's death. I would really spend hours and hours on the internet just to be updated with MJ. But it is not the case with Mrs. Aquino.
31 July 2009 - My students and I were walking along McArthur Highway. When we reached Ateneo de Davao High School campus I noticed the yellow ribbons tied on the railings as well as on the streets. I have already known that those yellow ribbons indicate support and prayers for Mrs. Aquino. Reminded by the yellow ribbons I then shared to my students my points of view on Mrs. Aquino. I told them that I find prayers for Mrs. Aquino to be useless, if her time comes the she would die. The prayers would not be able to heal Mrs. Aquino. The prayers would not help Mrs. Aquino to recover.
The next day, at around 5 o'clock in the morning, I was already hearing Ted Failon on TV. I thought it was just a replay of news program; what's more absurd was I thought it was another tribute for Michael Jackson. But shock suddenly grasped me and I could not believe what I was hearing. So to make sure that the news was true, I checked abs-cbnnews.com and yahoo.com, after doing so my hesitations were all erased. Mrs. Aquino died at 76. I was surprised upon confirming it. I was just talking with my students regarding prayers for Aquino, and then after few hours she was already gone.
Anti-Filipino
No. I am not so affected. Should I feel guilty about it?
Shameful may be but I just cannot lie to myself. I have cried over the King of Pop but I could not cry, even a single tear, for the late Mrs. Corazon Aquino. Maybe it is because I could barely connect with her, unlike MJ whose music greatly influenced me. Aside from that, forgive me kababayans, maybe I am just not impressed with what she had done. Others may think of her as the icon for hope but I really don't.
Yes, it is true. She led the people power but it was not her who triggered it. It was her husband, who I admire greatly. She only came to surface after her husband's death. She had to, the people are calling her. Filipinos are melodramatic. Underdogs are greatly favored. And I guess that's what happened hence the enormous support for Mrs. Aquino during the 1986 Special Election.
But I am not saying that the People Power 1 was just a fad. I believe that the Filipinos were already at their pique and to let Mr. Marcos continue his term would be a suicide. It just so happen that Mrs. Aquino was the wife of the great Benigno Aquino, Jr. She was the perfect character to replace the dictator who was believed to be connected with her husband's death.
Well, anyway, perhaps I am just one of the few who was not pleased by Mrs. Aquino but this does not necessarily mean that I see Mrs. Aquino as an inefficient president. I understand that her term as president was the most painful and difficult of all as hers was the transition period for the Filipinos. Despite the coup attempts and crisis she encountered the Philippine government was still able to survive.
Stolen and Returned
Aug 4, 2009
Thud!
Scream!
Distracted by the noise created by Ate Mimi outside the room, we really did not deem it as something alarming until Ate Joy insisted that something was going wrong outside.
Another scream.
Ate Joy then opened the door of the office as she rushed to Ate Mimi. Annie and I were both stunned when we saw that my laptop was no longer at the table. Kuya Fritz dashed out of the store to ran after the thief. Nakata folIowed.
I approached the table where my laptop was set. My heart was pounding hard and fast. Slowly by slowly, I could no longer distinguish what I was feeling. It seemed that my emotions left me out of nowhere. I was smiling but my head was confused. I was already aware that my laptop was stolen but I was still asking myself, "What happened?"
Oblivious of the people around me, my thoughts were all at the laptop. Hoping, praying that it will be recovered. I tried to cling to my intuitions but reality would keep on interrupting reminding me to prepare myself for the big possibility that it will never be returned to me. And my heart keeps on pounding hard and fast. My breathing then must have become abnormal but I really could not say. The thief might have stolen my emotions as well.
I must have been dazed for 20 minutes or so and I can say that that was the longest 20 minutes I ever had.
My senses only came back to me when I remembered that I have a deadline to meet on Wednesday. I have no other copies of my course outlines and Miss Jonalyn already informed us that the course outlines will be due on the 5th of August. Aside from that, I realized that I don't have a backup of my files. I felt doomed and I felt like crying. "So what am I going to do now?" Another question I could not answer.
Moments later I saw Nakata coming in the store. "Kapoy..." he uttered in his own way. After that Kuya Fritz followed on and then Jay-ar. My world stopped for a second. My breath almost ran out. Annie smiled at me then rubbed my back. I was relieved. Kuya Fritz placed the laptop on the table. I did not touch it at first. I only stared. He then showed me the scratches it incurred. The top cover as well as the front rear had blotches. According to Jay-ar, the thief threw the laptop on the street that is why they were able to retrieve my computer. However, they were not able to catch the thief. He was breathing heavily while relating the chase. Jay-ar added that the laptop jolted twice before it fell on the ground. Kuya Fritz then check if the laptop can still run. I sighed with relief as I heard it's welcome sound. Then I began checking the LCD screen. Thank God it did not sustain any damage. However, the lock was broken. Annie said it is better than the whole computer. I said "Yeah. Right."
Kuya Fritz and the rest of the group were then talking about what happened while I just sat and leaned on the wall. Annie kept asking if I was okay and I just told her that I am. I had the laptop back, that is the most important.