Pokemon Go and the 90’s Kids

I want to be the very best, like no one ever was…. And the song goes on in my head. Come on, don’t be shy, sing with me. We all knew the song. We knew it by heart. It’s Pokemon!

We’re all going crazy. No, we’re not just joining the club of Ash’s and Team Rockets just for the sake of being ‘in’. This is millennial anime/game in Generation Z! And yes, this is nostalgic.

I remember watching Pokemon when I was a kid with my siblings. We were trying to memorize all the Pokemons and their evolutions. Who owns which and what did the Team Rocket catched and stupidly gave away. We play Pokemon cards, texts (small rectangular paper with Pokemon prints) and pogs (round-shaped cardboard with prints of your fave cartoon) of Pomemon in our own ‘gym’. It was a nice memory. As if we’re back in time. Those childhood memories we kept in our childhood self, were automatically retrieved and refreshed the moment we caught sight of the Pokeball. One Pokemon catched on the list, be it Vulpix to Ninetails, Abra to Kadabra to Alakazam, our minds knew those familiar names, and we can’t help but smile.

Now Pokemon is in this smartphones we always use. Looking for a Pokemon in ‘real life’ is a wow for us. Finally, we can be like Ash or Brock or Misty, Serena or even Jessie or James. We can catch our first Pokemon and train them. Our childhood dreams came true.

Many will never understand specially those who don’t play the game, who don’t know any Pokemon at all (and that is possible), but this our childhood fantasy (how many times will I say it). It’s coming true in this virtual world. We can never defend ourselves for not looking on the streets instead because we’re too engrossed in playing Pokemon Go. We can’t blame you if we tripped over, if our phones were snatched, if we exit on a wrong way and bump into a glass door — which just happened to me yesterday. We can’t blame you for blaming us, ourselves. We’re guilty as charged.

We can’t promise we’ll stay alert at all times, sometimes we will just be plain stupid because of the game. But we will try to be sane as we should be. Though bear with us please for stopping abruptly while walking, or just by walking really really slowly. You will get irritated and get tired of this hype but this will all pass.

So let us just have our moment, our childhood dreams came into reality (though not really that ‘real’). We will be responsible of our own whatever effect the game may have on us. Just let us play the game and we will all live happily ever after. 😁

2013, I’m Saying Goodbye

It’s the last day of the year and I’m compelled to look back, in retrospect on what happened to me in 2013 out of boredom. So here it goes:

The first half of my 2013 wasn’t planned (I’m too carefree to plan) and neither did I expect anything as such. I had a couple of my firsts and lasts and some part of life is like flowing water for me — finding its way on its own. Somehow, there’s something I can’t control….

I took my first plane ride. Waah, my first plane ride. (Well, everybody had their first anything) It was hilarious. That day, I vowed to myself, I will ride more planes and will continue to do what I love — travel! Be it a ride on a bus, or on a boat, whatever means of transportation. And for that matter, I may also add, this year, I learned how to ride all alone in LRT (Congrats to me!)

I also strongly believe that I was so blessed. I passed my last evaluation subject at last! (Business Law and Taxation) — The easiest subject on board exam yet the reason for my ‘doctor’s degree’ in college, repeating the evaluation exam over and over again. Five times: three semesters and two summer classes. (Hey, I heard it. “What?!” “Ows?!” “Hell no” @*&%$*&! — but I’m done with it.)

Then, graduation came. Graduation? Oh, all I ever think was, “Go, and wear a dress and high heels. Put on some make-up, attend the ceremony and go home.” The excitement was long before gone after two extra years in college. Yet that was the happiest and most rewarding years in my college life. 🙂 And at last, I’m out of PUP. Welcome to the world of the unemployed.

I really didn’t know if I will take the board exam and never plan on enrolling in a review school, but God insisted (thanks to the people who always believe in me and supported me in any manner despite my vulnerability and failures). I enrolled a week before review classes starts and got an evening schedule — not what I wanted initially but then started to love: less pressure, cute and awesome reviewers :), insane yet thoughtful friends (haha), and some calm-almost-indifferent co-reviewees. Four months of serious review came in a rush. Half a year had passed — Whoosh! It came so fast.

So fast — we’re moving so fast and so does what happened next. We hit the car in front of us as another tricycle hit us from behind and the tricycle I’m riding in crashed and rolled round and round. I can see everything upside-down, so clear from my memory. Someone’s crying, shouting for help. I felt blood oozing from my head, blood from my nose — good thing I can still stand: no broken arms and legs. I started to panic but calmed myself and prayed ‘thank you’ to God —- my first vehicular accident, a month before my board exam, my second life.

A beautiful doctor from surgery makes me laugh while she’s doing the stitches in my head. Both the doctor and the nurse were amazed by me knowing I’ve been in an accident minutes before yet I can still manage to laugh. Never did they know that I’m worried about where will I get the money to get me out of the hospital (8 of the passengers from both tricycles were injured, including ‘our’ driver/operator, one passenger, I was told, was in coma and died a week later). 🙁
I don’t want my mother to come for she’ll be worried enough to make me worry about her, however, minutes later, my ninang and younger brother came, followed by my mother (my mother was crying, expectantly, of course, and I reassured her and calmed her that I am alright). Then another beautiful, yet aloof doctor from ENT came with a huge thong in her hand. She said my nose was broken (Of all things, my nose was flat, why in the world and how come that happened?!). She said she had to use that huge thong to push the broken bone inside my nose up, placing it back to where it should be, and in my head it was like, “Uh-huh… wait, WHAT?! Seriously.” And it would be very painful she further explains (how comforting). Anesthesia won’t work to ease the pain, even though they will inject five dose of anesthesia on my face (another ‘seriously’ from me).

Then I started to realize, this is really serious and only at that moment, I started to cry.

I’ve been two weeks of coming in and out of the hospital (but a different one now and with a different doctor) for checkup — no more huge thongs and all that painful process. Natural healing would be fine, said the good doctor. And though I’m very tired and my body’s not yet recovered from the accident, I prepared my requirements in PRC.

I got to join the long line of people getting the NBI with gauze on my head, hurting stitches and sore muscles. Trials didn’t stop there. My birthdate on my birth certificate was wrong and never knew it until that time — how stupid of me. I almost didn’t make it to the deadline of filing for the board.
But still, God has a plan — and that includes me, taking the board exam (almost dozing off to sleep because of medicines I still have to take) and failing it all the same. I’ve had enough of people who would ask or say “Why did you fail?”, “I guess you didn’t study that much.” Thanks to those who never said anything at all; those who just smiled at me and said “Let’s have a drink.” Or “Mag-videoke tayo!”
I’m never new to failures. It is always behind my back; Only too bad for it, for success is always beside me and in front of me. 🙂

I asked God, what is it He wanted me to do. There are so many open doors. All I have to do is take the right one. But how will I know?

So as the year closes to an end, I rested. It feels so comfortable to rest for a while. So darn comfortable that it seems like something is wrong. I waited for anything — for wisdom, for patience itself, for inspiration. So many things happened to me both the good and the bad; where from all things were learned. I’ve got only one thought in mind: next year, I’m going to do what I love.

I decided to come out of my comfort zone next year; try something new and adventurous — what I love the most. I will paint again, I will sing like nobody cares, I will find the job that suits me, I will travel, go mountain climbing, rappelling, trekking or whatever that makes my blood rush with happiness. I’ll try zumba and dance to the beat of gimme gimme. I will write poems, short stories and songs, and maybe, I could ask someone to play it for me. I will fall in love again and will never be afraid to love. And, I will learn how to cook. 🙂

I will treat myself and watch movie alone. I will buy and wear dresses that give me confidence. I will laugh much more often. I will gain new friends and I will read more books. I will surely enjoy the year and days ahead. I’m free as a wild horse galloping with strength. It’s my second life, my last life, my only life. I will do what makes me happy.

Oh, and yesterday, I dyed my hair mahogany. I didn’t wait for next year to do it. 😀

A Late Bloomer’s Thoughts

Sometimes,
When I can’t think of something to write,
I blame the hot weather on a cold December.
I heard every noise and distractions a night can offer.
I push myself up to the last thought,
but I’ll end spending hours staring on a blank paper,
thoughts wandering but nowhere to go.

When I can’t think of something to write,
I’ll invent stories;
stories with no ending, neither a beginning.
I’ll spend time chatting with characters I’ve made up,
forming their roles and making a mess with them.

I forced my poor mind to complete
even just one sentence that makes sense,
and unfortunately end up with nothing.
All words jammed together without a clear thought,
just like a blur.

When I can’t think of something that makes sense,
I blame the tiresome, long day,
for draining up my wit and strength.
I try to relax and unwind for a minute
but still, gained nothing but a yawn.

But my poor heart wants to say something to the world
yet my mind can’t decipher what the heart wants to say.
I try my best to hear my conscience—
if it can help me with something wonderful.
Alas, I can only hear my own voice singing a Carpenters’ song.
Even my conscience takes a break.

I read magazines and even the Bible for some inspirations,
but I only got make up tips
and ‘how to make him notice you’ information,
though helpful, I admit.
And oh, yes, the Bible says,
“Wisdom is in every thought of the intelligent people;
fools know nothing about wisdom”.

When I can’t think of something to write,
I blame my boring love life—-
Oh, I don’t even have a ‘love life’.
A woman in love can write a novel
about how she feels at exactly that moment,
expressing her love by thousand words.

I thought that’s why I can’t even write
one sentence that makes sense—
I’m not in love.

When inspiration doesn’t spend time with me,
sometimes even a fortnight,
I feel so empty.
A writer needs inspirations to write.
And when passion seems like taking a rest too,
like a fire in an open field,
trying to stay ablaze in a stormy weather—
there’s nothing poorer than that to a writer;
a broken glass; a wet book;
a withered plant.

When I can’t think of something to write,
I blame my pen and my notebook
for not keeping up with my mood.
And after a series of erasures and wasted, crumpled papers,
I forced myself again.

And soon, everything fits to place.
There’s no one to blame really,
not even myself.
Yes, blame is such a harsh word
because I realized, all these jammed words,
still made sense, indeed it makes sense —
even when I can’t think of something to write.

-jle120612 (Photo not mine)

 

 

Ang Tatlong Anghel sa UP

Dumayo kami ng mga kaibigan ko sa UP para kumain ng pansit canton, kwek-kwek at isaw nitong nakaraang linggo. Pero bukod doon, maswerte kaming nakarinig ng bagong kwento at maikling oras na di malilimutan.

Kilala na siguro sila ng ilang estudyante sa unibersidad. Narinig din kaya nila ang kwento ng tatlong anghel na ito?
Sila si Angel, Angelita at Angelo, tatlo sa anim na magkakapatid. Unang lumapit sa amin si Angelo, may bulutong pero pagaling na, mga dose anyos, nanghihingi ng limos pambaon daw kinabukasan. Medyo hindi ko pa siya pinapansin noong una, pero mabubuting tao ang mga kasama ko 😁 (echos lang), imbes na pera ang ibigay ay inalok nalang nila ng pansit canton. Agad namang pumili ang bata kung anong pansit canton combo ang nais niya. Hindi na siya nagdalawang-isip.  Gutom na sigurado.

Nakipag-kwentuhan muna kami sa kanya habang naghihintay maluto ang aming order. Biglang nakita sya ng dalawa pang bata at lumapit sa amin. Mas batang kapatid pala niya. Si Angel at Angelita (na nahawaan na rin ng bulutong at nilalagnat). Nagpadagdag kami ng order para sa kanila at sinimulan na ring makipagkwentuhan.

Hindi kami nahirapang malaman ang sitwasyon nila dahil willing silang sumagot. Sila pa nga ang nagkekwento. Napag-alaman naming walang trabaho ang nanay nila. Iniwan na sila ng tatay nila na nag-asawa ulit; ginugulpi raw sila kaya ayaw daw nila doon.  Nakakulong ang stepfather nila at dinalaw ng nanay nila sa kulungan. Napagbintangang nagnakaw ng mangga, at ng bisikleta, dagdag ni angelo nung nagtaka kami sa sagot nya. Meron pa bang nagpapakulong dahil lang sa pagnanakaw ng mangga? Grabe ah. Anyway, nag-aaral silang tatlo (grade 5 si Angelo pero di ko na tanda ang grade at edad nung dalawa). Ang nalilimos nila ay pinambibili nila ng bigas. Minsan, hinihingian din sila ng mga batang hamog para pambili ng yosi at chongke, pag hindi sila nagbigay, gugulpihin sila.

Pero kahit mahirap ang kanilang sitwasyon, nakakangiti sila at nakakapgbiro. Tinatawanan nila yung mga kwento nilang masasaya. Hayagan nilang kinikwento ang buhay nila, na tila wala silang alam kung gaano kahirap ang hirap na dinaranas nila. Hindi nila alam kung gaano sila katatag. Sila ay mga bata pa lamang. Walang bahid ng galit sa mukha nila, pero dama mo ang lungkot. Higit pa sa lahat, marunong silang magpasalamat. “Maraming salamat po!”, “Salamat po” at “Ingat” ang narinig ko sa kanila noong paalis na kami. Maraming nanlilimos na nagagalit kapag di mo nabigyan, pero iba ang tatlong to. Nakakatuwa.

Di na bago ang ganitong sitwasyon. Di na bago sa lipunan na puno ng mahihirap. Di na bago sa Pilipinas. Pero bawat kwento may bagong aral, may bagong mensahe. Kailangan mo lang ay makinig at magmasid. Hindi lahat ng nasa kalye masasama, manghoholdup, magnanakaw. Di lahat ng nanlilimos dulot ng sindikato at bumibili lang ng rugby, solvent or kung anu-ano pang masamang bisyo. Sa likod ng nakaunat nilang kamay, may kwento, may dahilan.

Ito ang kwento ng tatlong anghel na si Angelo, Angelita at Angel. Hindi pa tapos ang aklat ng buhay nila, mahaba pa ang kanilang lalakbayin. Nawa, maging isa itong magandang aklat na kapag nabasa ng lahat, di mo mapipigilang mapangiti at magpasalamat. 😊

image

image

image

image

Bright Red on Blue

Just want to share with you a hidden paradise in Masasa, Tingloy, Batangas, PH. A really nice escape from the city.

image

image

image

image

You can take a bus from Jam Liner, Kamuning to Grand Central Bus Station, Batangas. From there, you take a jeepney ride to Nasugbu Pier. You can ride a boat directly to Masasa beach at Tingloy Island, but we were lucky to have a friend who’s from Tingloy so we had an accommodation almost for free. Then we just took a tricycle to get to Masasa – but there’s a long walk from the terminal to the beach. It’s worth it though. 😀

Why Do We Climb Mountains?

As I lay on a sofa, resting my body with sore muscles from shoulders to feet a day after a climb, a friend asked “Why are you so hard on yourself? Why do you climb mountains?”

I just grinned back and smiled a ‘you-will-never-understand-because-you-don’t-try’ smile. One just can’t simply explain why we, you and I climb mountains. It is never a simple one-word explanation. Words can’t even be enough. Continue reading Why Do We Climb Mountains?

Follow

Get the latest posts delivered to your mailbox: