<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903</id><updated>2011-12-03T23:54:38.449-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Itid</title><subtitle type='html'>Ang aking pakikipagsapalaran sa katahimikan. Mahiwagang katahimikan. Malalim. Mababaw. Madilim. Maliwanag. Malamig. Mainit. Tumatagos sa puso. Sa diwa. Sa kaluluwa.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-8583601052112581256</id><published>2008-08-02T04:59:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T05:15:57.498-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Ihip ng Hangin</title><content type='html'>Pabagu-bago ang ihip ng hangin. Ngunit madalas mayroon itong nakagawiang ruta. Kaya kapagka biglang nag-iiba ang ihip ng hangin at hindi ito sumusunod sa nakagawiang ruta, nagkakaroon ng ipu-ipo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naalala ko noong misnang makipagtitigan ako nang mata sa mata sa isang malakas na ipu-ipo. Iyon ay nangyari sa gitna ng isang bagong ararong bukid na katatapos lamang pinag-anihan ng mais. Nangyari ito mga labingwalong taon na ang nakalilipas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parang may hindi nakikitang higanteng kamay na nagpapaikot noon sa hangin. Ramdam na ramdam ko ang kakaibang paglakas ng hangin. Kitang-kita ko ang paghugis ng ipu-ipo sa gitna ng araruhan. Mabilis ito lumaki at tila tumatakbo nang mabilis sa hindi depenidong direksyon. Hanggang sa ito'y malapit na sa kinaroroonan ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parang huminto ang pag-ikot nang mundo noon. TIla kandila akong napagkit sa kinatatayuan. Ramdam ko ang pagtindig ng maliliit na balahibo sa aking batok. At ang ipu-ipo ay tila huminto at nakikipag-usap sa akin. Ngunit paano ko kakausapin ang isang nagngangalit na elementong kumakanaw sa alikabok at patay na mga tangkay ng mais?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Labingwalong taon na ang nakalilipas. At ngayon, nakita kong muli ang ipu-ipo. Ngunit sa panaginip na lamang. Nakapagtataka, sapagkat sa aking panaginip ako ang ipu-ipo. Sapagkat nakita kong gumalaw ang aking mga kamay. Mabilis ang paggalaw ng aking mga kamay at kinanaw ang lupa't nagsaalikabok ito. Nagliparan ang mga tuyong tangkay ng mais. Nagliparan ang mga dahon. Nagliparan ang maliliit na mga sanga. Pabilis nang pabilis ang pag-ikot ng ipu-ipo. Sa gitna noon ay naroon ako. At sa labas ng ipu-ipo, nakita ko ang isang batang babae na nakikipagtitigan sa akin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-8583601052112581256?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/8583601052112581256/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=8583601052112581256' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/8583601052112581256'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/8583601052112581256'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2008/08/ihip-ng-hangin.html' title='Ihip ng Hangin'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-116679352858193184</id><published>2006-12-22T01:36:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2006-12-22T02:18:49.143-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang Manlalakbay</title><content type='html'>Anak siya ng kanyang panahong sa hinaharap pa lamang magaganap. Ngunit hindi niya alintana iyon sapagkat hindi pa man nagaganap ang kanyang panahon, ang lahat ay naganap na. O sa kanyang pakiwari, ang lahat ay ganap na. Noong una, inuokupa ang kanyang isip hinggil sa mga batayang katanungan ng pag-iral. Ano nga ba ang buhay? Ano ang dahilan ng buhay? Ano ang kahulugan ng buhay? Ano ang kahulugan ng mga kahulugan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngunit natuklasan niyang ang kasagutan sa mga tanong na iyon ay nakasulat na kahit sa kaliitliitang piraso ng alikabok. Nakasulat na ang lahat sa kasaysayan ng mga bituin na mula pa noong una ay sinikap nang intindihin ng tao amgmula nang matutunan niyang basahin ang tala ng kalawakan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang siyang manlalakbay. Isang manlalakbay ng panahon. Ilang milenyo na rin ang kanyang binagtas. Ilang kapanahunan na rin ang kanyang tinawid. Bumabalik-balik sa iba't ibang mukha. Sa iba't ibang panahon. Sa iba't ibang lugar. Sa iba't ibang sinapupunan. Isang dakilang manlalakbay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang umaga. Isang manlalakbay. Isang pangyayari. Sinong makapagsasabing siya ang ipinanganak ilang libong taon na ang nakalipas? Na siya ang unang uminom sa katubigan ng Lanao? Na siya ang unang lumangoy sa malaking ilog ng Pulangi? Na siya ang unang nagtanim ng palay sa Lalawigang Bulubundukin? Na siya rin ang nagtayo ng mga lungsod sa kabihasnan ng Sumer? Na siya rin ang unang natutong gumamit ng apoy? Na siya rin ang wawasak sa inabot nating sibilisasyon sa hinaharap?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinong makapagsasabing ang napakaraming siya ay iisa lamang? Na ang iba't ibang mukha ay iisang mukha lamang? Na ang iba't ibang kulay ay iisang kulay lamang?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nakita ko siya kagabi. Nakahiga sa damuhan. Binabasa ang mga bituin. Sapagkat ilang siglo ring siya ay hahalo sa lupa, sa hangin, sa tubig at apoy. Ngunit ano kaya ang kanyang gagawin ngayon sa ating kapanahunan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anak siya ng kanyang panahon. Isang manlalakbay. Dakilang manlalakbay. Isang umaga. Hinabol niya ang mga paru-paro. Hinabol niya ang mga tutubi. Napakagaan ng kanyang mga hakbang. Tila lumulutang. Nanguha siya ng ligaw na bulaklak sa pastulan. Naligo siya sa malamig na tubig ng sapa. Nakipaghabulan siya sa hangin. Bakas sa kanyang mukha ang kasiyahan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-116679352858193184?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/116679352858193184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=116679352858193184' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/116679352858193184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/116679352858193184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2006/12/ang-manlalakbay.html' title='Ang Manlalakbay'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-116532373776876783</id><published>2006-12-05T02:02:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2006-12-05T02:02:18.103-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Katahimikan</title><content type='html'>Katahimikan. Sa katahimikan ang lahat na bagay ay nagsasalita nang walang salita. Sa katahimikan ang lahat na lihim ay nabubunyag nang walang pagbubunyag. Sa katahimikan ang lahat na tinatago ay nagpapakita nang kusa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katahimikan. Ngunit hindi lahat ay nakakatagpo nang katahimikan. At halos karamihan sa atin ay naghahanap nito. Marahil dulot nang maraming ingay na dumarating sa ating buhay. Mga pisikal na ingay sa paligid. Mga ingay ng bagong teknolohiya. Mga ingay ng mga isyung pampulitika. Mga ingay ng kawalang-katarungan sa ating lipunan. Mga ingay ng puso. Mga ingay ng isip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katahimikan. Madalas nating iniuugnay ang katahimikan sa pagiging payapa ng paligid. Ngunit para sa iba, ang katahimikan ay kaulayaw ng ligalig at pangamba. Sapagkat ilan na nga ba silang bigla na lamang naglaho at hanggang ngayon ay hindi pa nakikita? Ilan na nga ba silang dahil ayaw manahimik ay pinatahimik ng bala, tortyur at mga banta?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katahimikan. Ang lahat ay nabubunyag sa katahimikan. Kahit ang nananahimik ay alam ang mga lihim ng mga ingay. At silang maiingay ay alam ang mga lihim ng pananahimik. Iba't ibang pananaw. Kanya-kanyang paninindigan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katahimikan. Sa katahimikan nakakausap natin ang ating mga sarili. Sa katahimikan nakakausap natin ang ating isip. Sa katahimikan nakakausap natin ang ating puso. Sa katahimikan ang lahat na ingay ay naglalaho. Sa katahimikan ang pananahimik ay nagkakaroon ng tinig.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-116532373776876783?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/116532373776876783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=116532373776876783' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/116532373776876783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/116532373776876783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2006/12/katahimikan.html' title='Katahimikan'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-114690945568816384</id><published>2006-05-05T22:57:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2006-05-05T22:57:42.710-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Sampung Alamat ng Pagkahubog</title><content type='html'>Masarap ang pakiramdam ngayong natapos ko na ang aking &lt;strong&gt;"Sampung Alamat ng Pagkahubog&lt;/strong&gt;". Ito ay mga sanaysay na nagsusuma sa maagang yugto ng aking pagkamulat sa mundo. Mga salaysay na sana ay makapagbibigay ng inspirasyon sa mga tulad kong hanggang ngayon ay naghahanap sa pirapirasong mga alaala na siya lamang natitira sa hindi naitalang kasaysayan ng aking lahi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masarap ang pakiramdam sapagkat masarap magpanday ng mga salaysay sa gitna ng katahimikang buhay na buhay. Katahimikang ibinubulong ng hangin at ipinagsisigawan ng mga kuliglig. Katahimikang hanggang ngayon ay umaalingawngaw sa aking puso.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masarap ang pakiramdam sapagkat ang malinggal na sapa sa tag-araw ay naghahatid ng maraming gunita. Mga gunitang minana pa sa libu-libo nang nauna sa akin. Mga gunitang ngayon ay nagbanyuhay na sa mga epiko at mga alamat. Mga gunita mula sa mga &lt;em&gt;antuka&lt;/em&gt; at &lt;em&gt;limbay&lt;/em&gt; na nagbanyuhay na sa pagiging alamat. Mga gunitang susubukan kong buhayin sa sampung alamat ng aking pagkahubog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;em&gt; Nagsimula ang lahat sa alamat. May alamat ang bawat bagay sa mundo. Mga bagay na nabubuhay at hindi nabubuhay (o inaakala nating walang buhay). Maaaring mabuhay ang lahat sa alamat..." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abangan!&lt;br /&gt;TSJ&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-114690945568816384?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/114690945568816384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=114690945568816384' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/114690945568816384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/114690945568816384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2006/05/sampung-alamat-ng-pagkahubog.html' title='Sampung Alamat ng Pagkahubog'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-114222972099238041</id><published>2006-03-12T17:44:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2006-03-12T19:02:01.476-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Paglipas ng mga araw, buwan, bituin, ulan, hangin atbp</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Hinga. Malalim na paghinga. Hiningang hinuhugot sa kaibuturan. Sa kadulu-duluhan ng mga ugat. Sa kaliitliitang mga selula't kaliitliitang bahagi ng mga selula. Kahit hanggang sa kaliitliitang quantum particles na tanging sa drowing lamang makikita ng mga ordinaryong paningin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iyon ang pinakamahabang paghingang naitala sa kasaysayan ng blog na ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hingang muli. Dahan-dahan. Tuluy-tuloy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maraming nangyari. Sa pag-orbit ng buwan sa mundo, nagkagulo. Marami ang nagsabing magulo at malabo. Ngunit para sa mga gumagapang sa ilalim ng lupa, malinaw ang lahat.  Sapagkat sa bawat pagyanig, sumasabay lamang sila habang ang mga naglalakad sa ibabaw ng lupa ay nangangambang matimbuwang at sumirko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maraming nangyayari. Sa bawat pagkagat ng dilim, naghahalo ang iba't ibang kulay. Sapagkat ang puting lagim ay kaaway ng lahat. Sa bawat pagsapit ng liwanag, may konsiyerto ang mga kulay. Sapagkat ang puting lagim ay berdugong  kaaway ng lahat. Tuloy-tuloy ang gyera ng mga kulay. Sino ang mas  maalam sa  Art of Coloring?  Ah, silang mga nakakayanang uriin ang mga kulay kahit sa liwanag man o dilim. Silang mga alam paano magkulay nakamulat man o nakapikit. Silang mga nakaaalam sa tunay nilang kulay. Oo, ito ay gyera ng mga kulay. At sinumang lalagay sa abuhing tipo ay tiyak na matatalo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marami pang mangyayari. Iilang pagyanig pa lamang. Tiyak may mga kasunod pa. Sapagkat hindi pa natatapos ang labanan ng mga kulay. Patuloy na nagbabago ang alyansa ng magkatunggaling panig. Marami ang nagtataka kung bakit tila tahimik ang karamihan sa manonood. Wala kaya silang interes na makipagtagisan sa pagkukulay?  O naghihintay sila na may  kulay na lilitaw? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Matagal pa siguro pa siguro bago mabuo ang obra maestrang kagigiliwan ng nakararami. Subalit sadyang hindi madaling  gawin ang isang obra maestra. Hindi kailangang magmadali. Mas kailangang tiyak ang bawat hagod.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko alam kung alam mo ang pinagsasabi ko. Wag mo na lang pansinin. Puyat lang siguro ako. Napasarap lang ang surfing dahil masayang matuklasan ang iba pang biyaya ng internet. Pag nagkita tayo, tanungin mo na lang ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masyadong komplikado kapag inisip ang lahat na problema ng mundo. Kaya wag kang mag-isip ng problema. Mag-isip ka ng solusyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Masarap magpalakas ng nen. Lalo na kung alam mong paglipas ng ilang ulan ay mas malakas ka na kaysa kay Kurapika. Na kayang-kaya mo nang pag-umpugin ang mga balck spider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kapag naramdaman mo ang lakas ng mga bato, lalakas rin. Kapag naramdaman mo ang kanilang paggalaw, mas lalakas ka pa. Kapag naramdaman mo ang kanilang paghinga, mararating mo ang pinakamalakas mong anyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naisip ko na 'to dati, naisip ko uli.  Di ko alam kung may nauna nang nagsulat tungkol dito. Pero 5 years ago naisulat ko na ang essay ko tungkol dito. Kaya habang wala pa akong nakikitang mas nauna sa akin, aangkinin ko muna ito.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every problem is spatial in nature. Thus, our ultimate problem is space."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-114222972099238041?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/114222972099238041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=114222972099238041' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/114222972099238041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/114222972099238041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2006/03/paglipas-ng-mga-araw-buwan-bituin-ulan.html' title='Paglipas ng mga araw, buwan, bituin, ulan, hangin atbp'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-113825940675054044</id><published>2006-01-25T20:06:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2006-01-25T20:10:06.773-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Paggunita II</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Paggunita II&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ngayon ang panahong iyon. Panahon ng pamumulaklak ng mga &lt;em&gt;dapdap&lt;/em&gt;. Tuwing gabi iniilawan ng di ko mabilang na mga alitaptap ang puno ng &lt;em&gt;dapdap&lt;/em&gt;. Panahong ayon sa mga haka ay nagsasaya ang mga nilalang na nananahan sa &lt;em&gt;dapdap&lt;/em&gt;. Sa malaking puno ng &lt;em&gt;dapdap&lt;/em&gt;. Malaking-malaki sapagkat hindi ito kayang yapusin ng apat katao.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panahon iyon na malakas ang kapangyarihan ng mga &lt;em&gt;tagbaya&lt;/em&gt; sa aking isip. Nararamdaman ko sila sa mga galaw ng paligid. Sa pag-ihip ng hangin. Sa Kaluskos ng kogonan. Sa alingayngay ng mga langkay. Sa lagaslas ng dalisay na kailugang minsang naging tahanan ng aking mga pangarap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ang panahong iyon. Panahong pinili kong maglagalag sa nakakubling daigdig ng mga nilalang na hindi nakikita ng paningin kundi ng pang-unawa. Naririnig ko ang kanilang mga bulong sa hangin. Ang paanas nilang kwentuhan sa tuwing ako'y dumaraan sa kanilang mga tarangkahang bato. Ginugunita ko ang panahong iyon. Sapagkat iyon ang panahong isinilang ang maraming ako na tinatawag ko ngayong ako.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Panahon iyon ng mga paligsahan kung sino ang unang makakuha sa puting bato na inihahagis sa pinakamalalim na bahagi ng ilog. Kung sino ang pinakamagaling sa pagsisid ng kailaliman ng ilog. Kung sino ang pinakamagaling tumalon mula sa punong nakadungaw sa ilog. Panahon iyong ang lahat ay pakikipaglaro sa mga batang tagbayang umaapaw sa sigla ng kabataan. Ginugunita ko ang panahong iyon. Doon nagsimula ang serye ng maraming gunita. Ng mga alaala. Ng mga pangarap. Sapagkat sa bawat pagtampisaw sa dalisay na ilog, humuhugis sa mga labi ang galak na damang-dama. Simpleng kaligayahan na tumatagos sa ubod ng pagkanilalang. Iyon ay nangyayari sa iba't ibang pagkakataon habang umuusad ang sukat ng tangkad at timbang. Iyon ay nangyayari sa iba't ibang pagkakataong iba't ibang kababatang babae ang pinagmamasdang nagtatampisaw sa ilog. Sa ilog na nananatiling dalisay sa isip. Sa ilog na walang kamatayan sa aking isip. Sa ilog na humuhugot ng lakas sa sinapupunan ng kabundukang tahanan ng mga ihalas. Ng mga nilalang sa ilang. Ng hindi mabilang na mga tagbayang nabubuhay sa salimbibig na mga nanangen mula pa noong nagpasyang galugarin ito ng lipi ni buuy Agyu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Habang lumilipas ang panahong iyon, unti-unting nagbabanyuhay ang lahat tungo sa pagiging alaala. Sa pagiging gunita. Habang lumilipas ang panahong iyon, lumilipas din silang lahat sa aking buhay. Silang mga naisama sa pangarap habang dinarama ang hiwaga ng ilog. Ang hindi maisalarawang ligayang hatid ng ilog.&lt;br /&gt;Habang lumilipas ang panahon, isa-isa silang naglaho sa tanawin ng daigdig na iyon. Nawala na ang kanilang mga ngiti. Ang umaapaw na sigla habang naghaharutan sa ilog. Isa-isa, sunud-sunod silang naglaho sa daigdig na iyon. Silang mga pinagmamasdan ko noon habang masayang naglulunoy sa ilog. Sa dalisay na ilog. Sa ilog na hanggang ngayon ay mahiwaga pa rin sa aking isipan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ang lahat na iyon. Ginugunita ko upang kahit sa alaala'y madamang muli ang hiwagang ilang taon na ring nais kong madama. Ang hiwagang unang nagmulat sa akin sa mga pangarap. Mga pangarap habang ang pinagmamasdan kong mga babae'y masayang-masayang nagtatampisaw sa hiwagang iyon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dumating sa panahong iyon ang yugtong unang nagmulat kung ano ang kawalan. Sapagkat dumating ang yugtong lahat sila'y naglaho sa daigdig na iyon. Sa yugto ng panahong iyon, ang lahat ay nagbabanyuhay sa katahimikan. Ang lagaslas ng ilog, ang galaw ng simoy, ang gaspang at kinis ng mga bato, luntiang pagyabong at ginintuang pangangalirang ng mga kogon, ang pagtayog at paglago ng mga puno, ang bughaw ng langit, ang puti at itim ng mga ulap, at mga wika sa sarili'y sumasanib lahat sa katahimikan. Sa katahimikang buhay na buhay sa aking isip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ang lahat sa panahong iyon. Ang lahat na yugto sa panahong iyon. Iyon ang panahong malakas ang kapangyarihan ng mga tagbaya sa aking isip. Panahong binabalot ng hiwaga ang gabi. Hiwaga ng mga nanangen ni Nanay Siling. Hiwaga ng mga limbay ni Nanay Siling. Hiwaga ng mismong katauhan ni Nanay Siling. Oo, si Nanay Siling na hanggang ngayon ay hindi ko nalubos ang pagkilala. Sapagkat sa panahong iyon, walang puwang ang pag-alam sa mga hiwaga. Sapagkat sa panahong iyon sapat nang madama ang hiwaga. Sapagkat hindi iyon ang panahon ng pagtuklas. Sapagkat hindi natutuklasan ang hiwagang bumabalot sa gabi. Hindi natutuklasan ang hiwaga ng mga nanangen at mga limbay. Sapat nang marinig. Sapat nang marinig. Sapat nang marinig sa bawat gabing pabilog kaming nakikinig sa mga nanangen at mga limbay habang paandap-andap ang gasera.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ang lahat ngayon. Ngayong nararamdaman kong muli ang silig ng ilog sa aking dibdib. Dalisay na dalisay sa alaala. Sariwa. Malinaw na malinaw. Kitang-kita ang mga makukulay na mga tambilolo at mga angang palipat-lipat sa batuhan sa ilalim ng pusod ng ilog. Ang ilog na nalalasahan ko pa hanggang ngayon. Sapagkat walang kasintamis ang sabaw ng kaybad mula sa bagangbangan. Walang kasintamis. Walang kasingsarap ang kaybad. Ah! Nalalasahan ko ngayon ang ilog. Nararamdaman ko ang agos. Nararamdaman ko ang silig. Ang lakas. Ang dalisay na ilog. Sariwang-sariwa sa alaala. Buhay na buhay sa gunita. Mahiwaga. Hindi kailangang tuklasin ang hiwaga. sapagkat mas masarap itong namnamin sa bawat dapithapong tuluy-tuloy ang pagsaklang ng kape habang nagkukwentuhan. Mas masarap itong namnamin sa bawat bukang-liwayway na sinasalubong ng tuluy-tuloy na pagsaklang ng kape habang nagkukwentuhan. Sapagkat iyon ang mahalaga sa buhay. Ang madama ang hiwaga nito. Ang malasap ang bawat sandali.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iyon ang panahong nagising ang libu-libong ako sa aking sarili. Sapagkat sa mga panahon ng pag-iisa, natutuklasan kong hindi ako nag-iisa. Ginugunita ko ang lahat na ito sapagkat matagal na panahong nakatulog ako. Nakatulog ang mga ako. At sa mga gunitang ito, nagigising silang lahat. Silang mga hitik ang isip sa pangarap. Silang mga sagana sa pangitain ang pananaw. Silang mga nakakarinig sa anasan ng mga tagbaya. Silang mga nakikipaghabulan sa mga batang tagbaya. Silang mga umaakyat-panaog sa mga puno. Silang mga hindi maubusan ng ngiti. Silang mga malalakas. Silang mga naghahangad ng lakas. Silang mga ako na nakatulog sa proseso ng domestikasyong ipinagkamaling edukasyon noon. Silang mga nakatulog sa nakakaantok na "siyensiyang" inilalako sa kuwadradong mga sulok na salat sa hiwaga't pang-unawa sa buhay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! Ginugunita ko ngayon ang panahong iyon. Sapagkat ngayon ang panahon ng paggising. Ito ang panahon ng pagbangon. Ngayon ang panahong kailangan ang hiwaga ng mga ilog. Ngayon ang panahong kailangan ang hiwaga ng kabundukan. Ngayon ang panahong kailangan ang kalinga ng mga dampa sa kanayunan. Ngayon ang panahong Kailangan ang hiwaga ng mga daang-kalabaw. Ngayon ang panahong kailangan ang lakas ng mga ilog, ang kalinga ng lupa, ang hiwaga ng dalisdis at gulod, ang daang inihahapag ng mga pilapil, ang pula ng mga dapithapon, ang hiwaga, ang hiwaga, ang hiwaga ng kalikasan, ng tao, ng daigdig, ng buhay! Ah! Ginugunita ko ang lahat ngayon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang lahat ay nagbabanyuhay sa alaala, sa gunita, sa hiwaga. Habang umuusad ang sukat ng tangkad at timbang. Habang umaatras ang sukat ng tangkad at timbang. Hanggang sa mawalan ng panimbang. Hanggang sa kukunin ang sukat ng tangkad. At magbabanyuhay ang lahat sa alaala, sa gunita, sa hiwaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko ngayon ang panahong iyon. Dinadama ang bawat hiwaga. Habang ang lahat ay nagbabanyuhay sa katahimikan. Sa katahimikang buhay na buhay sa aking alaala. Ginugunita ko ang panahong iyon. Ang panahong maraming panahon upang maggising ang libu-libong ako. Ginugunita ko ang panahong iyon. Ngayong ang panahon ay panahon ng paggising. Ngayong ang panahon ay panahon ng pagbangon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hadi ta aglipati sa kagpamatbat. Ta bul-og su mahius makalipat na hadi tagkatigayun. Bul-og su hura din hanaw ku inu sa kaula-ula hu mga laas su anay, na hura daan gayud maayad ha abin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hala, dasang kaw mga dadatuen! Dasang kaw mga apo hi Agyu! Dasang! Dasang! Dasang! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dalisay ang ilog sa aking gunita. Sariwa ang hangin sa aking alaala. Sagana ang lupa sa aking isip.Panahon ngayon ng pagbangon. ###&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-113825940675054044?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/113825940675054044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=113825940675054044' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113825940675054044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113825940675054044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2006/01/paggunita-ii.html' title='Paggunita II'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-113505513170380933</id><published>2005-12-19T16:25:00.001-11:00</published><updated>2005-12-19T18:05:31.740-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Paggunita I</title><content type='html'>Ginugunita ko kayo ngayon. Kayong mga nakipagdalumat sa landas na tinatawag nating buhay. Kayong mga nakalimutan na at naaalala pa. Kayong mga ibinaon sa limot at hinuhukay sa alaala. Ginugunita ko kayo ngayon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga kaibigang nananatiling bata sa aking isipan. Sa mga kalaro ko ng &lt;em&gt;eskate&lt;/em&gt; noong grade one. Sa mga kasama ko sa cutting classes noon upang manguha ng bayabas o kaya maligo sa dalisay na ilog ng &lt;em&gt;Kulaman&lt;/em&gt;. Sa mga kasama kong mangahoy noon sa mahiwagang &lt;em&gt;Alalum&lt;/em&gt; na mundo ng makapangyarihang mga &lt;em&gt;tagbaya&lt;/em&gt; sa aking isip. Sa mga kaibigang nakikita at hindi nakikita. Inaalala ko kayong lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga naging kaklase ko noong elementary. Kayong mga nakasama ko sa paghahabulan sa mahogani&lt;em&gt;han&lt;/em&gt;. Kayong mga kasama kong nagbubunot ng mga amorseko sa tuwing umaga bago makapasok sa klasrum. Kayong mga kasama kong naglalaro sa &lt;em&gt;ulanan&lt;/em&gt;. Kayong mga kasama ko sa pag-back-tumbling sa damuhan. Naaalala ko kayo ngayon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga kasama kong &lt;em&gt;manglaraw&lt;/em&gt; ng mais sa San Vicente. Sa mga katropa kong &lt;em&gt;mangag&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt;ag&lt;/em&gt; ng &lt;em&gt;humay&lt;/em&gt; sa lahat na &lt;em&gt;humayan&lt;/em&gt; sa &lt;em&gt;Kisolon&lt;/em&gt;. Ginugunita ko kayong lahat. Ginugunita ko ang mainit na araw na nagbigay ng kulay kape noon )(hanggang ngayon) sa ating mga balat. Ginugunita ko ang pagpasan ng saku-sakong mais, ng saku-sakong palay na hindi man lang sumayad sa taing mga sikmura.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga nakasama sa pagtuklas sa kalikasan. Kayong mga nakasama ko sa paliligo sa ilog Tagoloan. Kayong mga kasama ko sa pagahhanap buwaya upang tuklasin kong totoong kayang lagariin ang ngipin nila at gawing anting-anting. Kayong mga kasama ko sa pagbaklay papunta sa San Juan at Intavas. Naaalala ko kayo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naaalala ko kayo. Kayong mga nakasama ko sa tanom ng palay sa marami nang basakan. Naaalala ko ang mga mukha nating nadudungisan noon ng putik na singkulay din ng ating balat. Naaalala ko ang maghapon nating pagyuko-pagtayo at paatras na paghakbang upang maging maayos ang tanom. Naaalala ko ang mga kwentuhan natin habang masayang kumakain ng tanghalian. Nagkakamay tayong lahat na kumakain. Ang mg kamay natin na lumubog-lumitaw sa putik ay siya ring mga kamay na gamit natin sa pagkain. Ngunit hindi natin alintana iyon. Konting hugas lang ang katapat kahit walang sabon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga kasama ko sa trabaho noon pagkagradweyt ko ng elementary. Kayong mga kasama ko sa pagtatanim ng tubo sa tubuhan ni Branya. Kayong mga kasama ko sa &lt;em&gt;pagtatapas&lt;/em&gt; ng tubo sa tubuhan pa rin ni Branya. Kayong mga mabibilis gumamit ng espading. Kayong Malalaks maghakot ng mabibigat na &lt;em&gt;bangan&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt;bangan&lt;/em&gt; na tubo paakyat sa trak at dumadaan sa madulas na &lt;em&gt;damyo&lt;/em&gt;. Kayong kasama ko sa ilalim na init at ulan. Kayong mga kasama ko sa pagtatanim at pag-aani ng kamatis ng BRCI.  Kayong mga kasama ko sa &lt;em&gt;pagbasok&lt;/em&gt; sa halos lahat na kamaisan sa buong Sumilaw. Kayong mga sanay sa pagwasiwas ng &lt;em&gt;lampasiyaw&lt;/em&gt; at bihasa sa sining ng paggamit ng &lt;em&gt;pitiay&lt;/em&gt;. Ginugunita ko kayong lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga kaklase ko noong haiskul. Sa mga kasama kong iskul-bukol. Sa mga katropa kong amdalas umupo sa likod upang madaling masilipan ang mga student teacher.  Sa mga kasama kong nagpupuslit ng gin na nakalgay sa plastic at hinaluan ng softdrinks at iniinom gamit ang straw. Sa mga kasama kong nagpapahiram ng mga porn magazione na ninakaw sa kanilang mga tiyuhin.  Sa mga kasama kong nag-eksperimento ng bagong laro na parang golf pero nilalaro na parang hockey. Sa mga teacher ko na kainuman din minsan. Sa mga kakilalang umampon sa akin sa mga panahong wala akong matuluyan. Sa mga pamilyang kumupkop sa akin sa buong panahong pinagtiyagaan ko ang haiskul. Sa mababait (at masusungit) na anging amo sa trabaho upang magkaroon ng pambaon. Ginugunita ko kayong lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kahit kayong mga kasama ko noon sa lumpenic na mga gawain.  Kayong mga &lt;em&gt;adik&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt;adik&lt;/em&gt; ng Calanawan. Kayong mga &lt;em&gt;palahubog&lt;/em&gt; ng San Miguel.  Kayong mga &lt;em&gt;buguy&lt;/em&gt;-&lt;em&gt;bugoy&lt;/em&gt; ng Tangkulan.  Naaalala ko ang ating mga kalokohan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga nakasama ko sa paliligo sa magandang ilog ng Mangima. Kayong mga kasama ko sa paggala sa Sankanan, sa Camp 1, sa Dahilayan, SantoNinyo, Diklum, DAlirig, Kilabong, Vista Villa, Maluko, at iba pang baranggay na hindi ko na matandaan. Kayong mga nakasama sa paggala sa MAlaybalay, San FErnando, Musuan, Valencia, Salawagan, Talakag, Libona, Malitbog, Lantapan, Impasug-ong, Cagayan de ORo, Iligan, Pagadian at sa ibang lugar na hindi ko na maalala ang mga pangalan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa mga nakasama college. Sa mga katulad kong mahilig sa kape. Sa mga katulad kong mahilig umakyat sa bubong ng isang building. Sa mga katulad kong mahilig tumambay sa park. Sa mga tulad kong naadik sa ghost fighter. Sa mga tulad kong nangarap maging supersaiyan. Ginugunita ko kayong lahat. Sa mga kaibigang nawala at pumanaw. KAyong mas matatapang kaysa akin.  kAyong minsang nagpakain sa panahon ng aking kagutuman. Kayong nagreregalo ng fresh milk. Kayong nanglilibre ng pancit cnaton. Kayong nanglilibre ng kape. KAyong nagbibigay ng mga raket na pagkakitaan. Kayong madalas makahuntahan sa kahit anong bagay. Naaalala ko kayong lahat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga walang mukha at walang pangalan sa aking alaala. Kayong mga hindi ko aam kong saang lupalop nanggaling. Kayong mga nakasama sa barko papuntang Mindanao at pabalik sa Maynila. Kayong mga nakatabi bus na byaheng Baguio. KAyong nakatabi sa jeep papuntang Quiapo. Naaalala ko na wala kayong mga mukha. Kayong mga walang probinsya. KAyong mga walang lugar. KAyong mga sa mata lang nakikilala. KAyong mga minsang nakasama sa pagkain sa fastfood. Naaalala ko kayo kahit hindi ko kayo naaalala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga kaibigan. Mga kaibigang tunay. Mga kaibigang hindi tunay. Mga kaibigang totoong kaibigan. Mga kaibigang hindi totoong kaibigan. Kayong mga kaibigan sa isip sa salita at gawa. Kayong mga kaibigan lang sa salita. KAyong mga kaibigan na hindi ko kaibigan. Kayong mga kaibigan na hindi ko alam na aking kaibigan. Kayong lahat. Naaalala ko kayo kahit marami sa inyo ay hindi ko naaalala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga konduktor na bus na tinatawag akong 'pare'. Kayong mga drayber ng jeep na nagbabahagi ng kahirapang kumita ng pang-boundary. Kayong mga drayber na nagkukwento at nagkukwenta ng kahirapang magpaaral ng mga anak. Naaalala ko kayo kahit hindi ko kayo naaalala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kayong mga nagmahal sa akin (salamat). Kayong mga minahal ko. KAyong mga minahal ko nang minsan. KAyong mga mahal ko hanggang ngayon. Kayong mga hindi ko na mahal ngayon. Kayong mga hindi na nagmamahal sa akin ngayon. Naaalala ko pa rin kayo kahit marami sa inyo ang hindi ko na rin naaalala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko kayong lahat ngayon. Kayong mga namayapa at patuloy na nabubuhay. Kayong mga buhay lamang sa alaala. Kayong mga laging nakangiti sa alaala. Kayong laging nakasimangot sa alaala. Kayong lahat naaalala ko kahit hindi ko naaalala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko kayong lahat sapagkat marami na nagbago. MAraming bagay ang nagbago. Maraming bagay ang nagbabago. Ang lahat na bagay ay nagbabago. At sa mga pagbabago, marmaing bagay ang nagiging alaala na lamang. Ayaw ko sanang makalimot subalit sadyang marupok ang isip. Mabuti na lamang may alaala. Para maalala ko kayo kahit hindi ko na naaalala ang marami sa inyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ginugunita ko kayong lahat dahil lahat kayo ay naging bahagi, nakibahagi, binahaginan ko ng kapiraso ng aking ako. Ginugunita ko ang mga pirasong iyon, sapagkat ngayon, ang buong ako ay ibinahagi ko na nang buong-buo sa pinakamagandang babae sa aking mundo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-113505513170380933?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/113505513170380933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=113505513170380933' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113505513170380933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113505513170380933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/12/paggunita-i.html' title='Paggunita I'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-113418438371381624</id><published>2005-12-09T16:07:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-12-09T16:13:03.726-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang alamat ng sumpa</title><content type='html'>Dalawang dekada akong tulog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagsimula ang lahat na ito noong unang panahon. Noong panahong ang mga alamat ay hindi alamat. Noong panahong ang gising ay gising at ang tulog ay tulog. Noong panahong ang mga pangitain ay pangkaraniwan lamang sa bawat matinong isip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subalit limot na ng karamihan ang panahong iyon. Ni walang naiwang komprehensibong tala sa kasaysayan na iyon. Dahil dumating ang krus at espada. Ang lahat ay sapilitang pinaluhod sa krus. Ang ayaw lumuhod kamatayan ang hatol. Lalong naging mabisa ang sumpa nang dumating ang krag na una nang naghasik ng lagim sa mga tunay na tagapagmana ng tinagurian nila noong "New World".  Nang lumaon nga'y may espesyal na dagdag pa sa krag at iba pang de-pulburang gamit "pamayapa". Naimbento ang 45 na napatunayang mabisang pampatulog sa mga gising na hindi tinatablan ng sumpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ito ang maikling buod ng sumpa kung saan nagsimula ang lahat. Ang sumpa na sumira sa balanse at daloy ng ating panahon. Kung kaya naging tulog kahit ang gising. At iilan na lamang ang panakanakang bumabangon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naging lalong mabisa ang sumpa sa paglipas ng panahon. Kung kaya iilan na lamang ang nakakaalam na noon, ang gising ay gising at ang tulog ay tulog. Marami ngayon ang tulog. Kaya nakapanlalamang ang mga nagtutulug-tulugan. Silang mga nakipagsabwatan sa tagapangalaga sa mga lihim ng sumpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dahil sa sitwasyong ito, tayo ay iniluwal sa mundo ng mga tulog. Kaya walang ibang itinuro sa atin kundi ang pumikit. Kaya iyon din ang aking natutunan. Ito ang dahilan kung bakit dalawang dekada akong tulog. Ito ang dahilan kung bakit karamihan sa atin ngayon ay tulog pa rin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isang mahabang kwento kung paano nawalan ng bisa ang sumpa sa akin. Kung paano ko nalaman ang kaibhan ng tulog sa gising. Kung paano ko napagtantong marami sa atin ang nahihimbing hanggang ngayon sa ilalim ng sumpa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nagising ako sa gitna ng bangungot. Malagim na bangungot. Bangungot na nagtutulak sa karamihan sa henerasyong ito na mangibang-bayan. Bangungot na pumaparalisa sa kilos ng ibang namulat na ang mata subalit natatakot pa rin sa sumpa kaya ayaw bumangon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subalit may ibang gising na gising na at tiniklop na ang kanilang mga higaan. Silang mga namulat sa kahungkagan at kabulaanan ng sumpa. Silang mga nakaaalam na ang sumpa ay walang bisa sa mga taong tunay na gising. Silang mga walang mukha at pangalan na nanggigising sa mga tulog. Silang mga umalohokan na nagdadala ng mensahe ng katubusan mula sa sumpa. Silang mga nakauunawa na tanging mga gising ang nakakakita ng mga pangitain. Silang may apoy sa dibdib. Silang gumagalaw sa ilalim ng lupa kasama ang nakakubling dragon. Silang gumagapang sa ibabaw ng lupa at nakikipagpatintero sa mga buwitre.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ngayong ako ay gising na, maglalakbay ako sa panahon. Dahil katulad ng ibang gising at kumikilos, nais kong maibalik ang balanse at daloy ng panahon sa nararapat nitong pag-inog. Iyong panahong ang gising ay gising at ang tulog ay pisikal na pagpikit ng mata lamang. Iyong panahong ang mga pangitain ay hindi ang pambubulahaw ng mga bulaang propeta at sugo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa panahon natin ngayon, hindi sapat na mamulat dapat bumangon. Hindi sapat na bumangon dapat kumilos. Hindi sapat na kumilos dapat magmulat. Hindi sapat na kumilos at magmulat. Dapat kumilos at magmulat nang puspusan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-113418438371381624?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/113418438371381624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=113418438371381624' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113418438371381624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113418438371381624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/12/ang-alamat-ng-sumpa.html' title='Ang alamat ng sumpa'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-113394761070541595</id><published>2005-12-06T22:03:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T22:26:51.810-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Pag-iisang dibdib</title><content type='html'>Hupong ako karon sa dili malitok nga pagbati. Pagbati nga di mahubit sa pulong. Pagbati nga kanunayng nagasangpit sa maanindot nga bansagon sa gugma – malungtaron, putli, hamili, tim-os ug bug-os sa kasingkasing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mao kini ang pagbati nga kaniadto kanunay kong gipangandoy nga hipalgan, hikaplagan sa kinailadman sa dughan. Dugay ko kining gipangita. Oo, sugod pa niadtong mga panahon nga  wala pa nagtagbo ang atong mga dalan. Sugod niadtong wa ko pa hingkit-i ang imong maanyag nga panagway. Ang panagway nga akong gibilaran sa di maihap nga mga kagabhion uban ang bulan ug mga bitoon. Uban ang kahayag ug kangitngit. Uban ang kainit ug katugnaw. Oo, sukad pa niadtong mipitik kining dughan samtang ikaw naga-awit sa mga alawiton nga atong gipanag-ambitan. Sa atong pagsuroysuroy taliwala sa lunhawng sagbot sa kabaw sa Freedom Park uban ang mga amorseko. Uban ang mga tapuri-salindanaw sa kahaponon o kaha ang mga alibangbang nga kanunayng nagadayeg sa bulak sa mga acacia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natapos na ang unang yugto sa atong mga pag-antus. Apan nasayod kita nga aduna pay daghang mga pagsulay ug kapit-us. Susama sa kinaiyahan adunay unos, hulaw, bagyo, baha. O kaha linog ug pagkagun-ob. Tungod kay kining mga butanga modangat man gyud dinhi sa atong kalibutan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apan bisan pa niini, padayon kita nga nagalaum. Padayon kita nga nagapakigbisog. Padayon kita nga nagahandum sa mga kagahapon. Sa mga laya nga dahon sa kagahapon. Sa mga panid sa kagahapon nga atong gisaw-an ug gibalaan. Ah! Kita nagapaabot sa bag-ong ugma. Sa bag-ong sugilanon nga atong ipanugilon unya sa atong kaliwatan. Sa kaliwatan nga unya atong hatagan sa maayong panulondon. Sa mga kabtangan nga dili mapalit sa bulawan ni salapi. Tungod kay bisan kanus-a dili gayud mapalit ang tiunay nga gugma. Ang gugmang hinungdan kun ngano kita padayon nga nagalaum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Busa kita ania karon. Nagapadayon. Padayon nga nagalaum sa pagpanagbanag. Sa pag-abot sa bag-ong ugma. Sa pagsidlak sa bag-ong adlaw. Nga maoy nagapanamkon sa pagkatawo sa bag-ong kalibutan nga atong ginapangandoy. Ang pangandoy nga kanunayng kauban sa gugmang atong gibalaan aron molungtad hangtud sa kahangturan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-113394761070541595?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/113394761070541595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=113394761070541595' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113394761070541595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113394761070541595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/12/pag-iisang-dibdib.html' title='Pag-iisang dibdib'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-113388445187878472</id><published>2005-12-06T04:13:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-12-06T04:54:12.076-11:00</updated><title type='text'>I lost red ballpen</title><content type='html'>I lost my red ballpen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I liked my red ball pen very much. It reminds me of red sunsets. It paints in my mind a red garden streaming with red roses. And red roses make me think of beauty; and thorns. And that beauty can make you bleed as much as thorns do, even more painful most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pain makes me think of people. People feel pain although many are dead people walking. Like the rugged beggars wearing rugged rags. Or the sweating workers wearing sweat shirts. Or the soiled peasants wearing soiled clothes. They are all dead people walking. They are just waiting the hour when death would be more physical. Because long before they can rest with the sand, the gravemasters had already robbed them of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gravemasters are those who enjoy the fruits of the trees they did not plant. They happily devour the food they did not prepare. They live in the luxury they did not toiled to have. Because the dead people walking are the ones who do all the things for them. Because if the dead people refuse, they would be buried alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the dead people walking come back to their senses, the gravemasters are threatened. Alas, the zombies are starting to riot! That is their favorite line. Then their mercenaries would mass up to exterminate the walking dead. Thus Mendiola, Lupao, Hacienda Luisita, Sta. Filomena, Palo, Leyte and many more places became theaters of perfect massacres. Others were abducted as scientific specimens to determine whether dead people walking would respond to the stimuli of torture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There's red in your coffee,” Nestle workers exclaimed. "There's also red in your milk or your coffee mate." I wanted to write about these remarks that’s why I wish I'll find my red ballpen. I wished to write often about the situation (not life because they are dead) of the dead people walking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I lost my red ballpen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-113388445187878472?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/113388445187878472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=113388445187878472' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113388445187878472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/113388445187878472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/12/i-lost-red-ballpen.html' title='I lost red ballpen'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-112643695770511529</id><published>2005-09-10T23:30:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-09-11T00:09:17.773-11:00</updated><title type='text'>saksak sinagol</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Minsan hindi na kailangan ang mga salita upang ihayag ang iyong mga saloobin. Kahit sa galaw lamang ng mata o kaya sa kumpas ng kamay maari nang magpahayag. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Minsan napakaraming bagay ang nais mong sabihin at ibahagi sa iba. At sa kahulihulihan, wala kang nasasabing kahit isa. Bigo ang dakila mong pagtatangka. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Madalas abala ka sa pag-iisip kung paano maabot ang iyong mga pangarap. Madalas din na nauuwi ka sa pagtungayaw dahil sa bahaging ito ng mundo bangungot ang nasa dulo. Hindi ka matunawan at napapabuntung-hininga na lamang.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Madalas mong mapuna ang kawalang-buhay ng paulit-ulit mong pagparoo't parito sa trabaho. Paulit-ulit ang pagsakay-baba, pag-akyat-panaog, pagkain, pag-inom, paggising, pagtulog. Paulit-ulit na tila tema ng mga telenobela, pantasya nobela, tsinobela, Koreanobela o ano pang mga serye ng palabas sa telebisyon na pare-pareho ang kwento o di kaya nama'y mga sinalaulang ideya mula sa kung saan-saang lupalop nang mundo at paulit-ulit na ipinagduduldulan sa iyo. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Minsan naiisip mong mas mabuting maupo sa ilalim ng puno kaysa maglagari sa mausok at maalikabok na lansangang madalas mong isinasaksak sa iyong baga. Madalas mong naiisip ang probinsya. Ngunit mauuwi ka sa pagtitiis dahil tinatamad ka namang magbungkal ng lupa at magtanim ng kamote. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ilan lamang ang mga ito sa mga bagay na umiinog at nagsasalpukan sa iyong isip. Na kapag nagsabaysabay, mas pipiliin mong maupo sa isang tabi. At hahayaan mong lamunin ng katahimikan ang lahat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At sa gitna ng katahimikan, magtataka ka. Magtataka sa patak ng tubig na iyong naririnig. Paulit-ulit. Walang katapusan.        &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-112643695770511529?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/112643695770511529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=112643695770511529' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112643695770511529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112643695770511529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/09/saksak-sinagol.html' title='saksak sinagol'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-112165780826350037</id><published>2005-07-17T16:27:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-07-17T16:36:48.266-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Galaw ng mga elemento</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ito ang tula na minsan kong nasumpungan sa aking panaginip...   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Galaw ng mga elemento&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;itid&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kapag natuklasan mo ang nakakubling dragon sa iyong dibdib,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Magiging malakas ka. At mag-aalab ang apoy sa iyong puso,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tutupukin ang lahat na takot sa daluyong ng iyong dugo.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kapag iyong natamo ang nakatagong kaluwalhatian sa isip,&lt;br /&gt;Magiging matatag ka. At mapapanatag ang iyong daigdig,&lt;br /&gt;Tatangayin ng hangin ang lahat na alinlangan at ligalig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kapag nasumpungan mo ang taimtim na saglit ng kapayapaan,&lt;br /&gt;Malalaman mong ang pag-unlad ay nagsisimula sa pananalig,&lt;br /&gt;Anumang balakid, kayang igpawan katulad ng malayang tubig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kapag nahanap mo ang kaliwanagang mailap sa iyong pang-unawa,&lt;br /&gt;Malalaman mong may dahilan ang pag-iral mo sa mundong ibabaw,&lt;br /&gt;At malulubos lamang ang iyong ambag sa sinapupunan ng lupa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gumagalaw ang lahat sa kumpas ng hangin, tubig, lupa at apoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-112165780826350037?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/112165780826350037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=112165780826350037' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112165780826350037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112165780826350037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/07/galaw-ng-mga-elemento.html' title='Galaw ng mga elemento'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-112157115220748840</id><published>2005-07-16T15:22:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T16:32:32.213-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Kontradiksyon</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Susubukan ko naman ngayong magbahagi ng mga naiisip ko sa kasalukuyang "kaguluhan" sa ating bansa. Maaring simplistiko itong aking mga pagsusuri para sa iba, pero talaga namang dapat pasimplehin natin ang komplikadong mga bagay para maintindihan natin ito. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kapag negatibo ang pananaw natin sa kasalukuyang "kaguluhan" sa ating bansa, tiyak malulula tayo. Lalo pa kung iisipin natin na masyadong komplikado ang mga bagay na ito.  Na mahirap itong unawain. Na wala tayong magagawa. Na wala nang pag-asa sa bahaging ito ng mundo.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Iwasan man nating isipin ang mga nangyayari sa ating bansa, hindi natin ito maiiwasan. Maaalala mo iyan kapag nagbayad ka sa dyip dahil maiisip mo na 7.50 na nga pala ang minimum fare. Ang 1.5 na coke ay 33 na pala sa mga retail store. Ang siomai na last year lang ay sampung piso ang isang serving (na apat na piraso), ay 11 piso na ngayon ang isang serving (na tatlong piraso na lang). At ang lahat pang mga bilihin ay tumaas na rin ang presyo. Baka nga marami na sa atin ang binabangungot sa gabi dahil ang mga pinagkakauutangan ay naniningil na kahit sa panaginip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;At ang linsyak na pamatay sa lahat, "hindi nagtataas ng sahod!". &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Kaya nga kapag nangyayari ang mga "kaguluhang" katulad ngayon, iskor lagi ng bukol sa ating isip. At butas-butas ang ating mga bulsa. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Pero hindi dapat maging negatibo o pessimistic sa ganitong panahon. Ibig lamang sabihin ng mga "kaguluhang" ito, tumitindi ang mga kontradiksyong naghahanap ng sukdulan upang makapagluwal ng bagong balanse ng kapangyarihan. Maaaring iba-iba ang ating pagtingin kung anu-ano ang mga kontradiksyong ito. Madalas, mag-iiba tayo ng pananaw depende sa kung anong "political persuasion" ang meron tayo. Mayroon pa siguro tayong maiisip na mga undercurrents sa mga kontradiksyong pinaniniwalaan nating nangyayari sa kasalukuyang yugto ng ating kasaysayan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Nakikita kong sa panahon natin ngayon ay tumitindi ang kontradiksyon sa pagitan ng dalawang pinakamalalakas na puwersa sa ating lipunan. Una, ang estado (na hawak ng naghaharing-uri ayon sa Marxistang pagsusuri) na kumakatawan sa status quo at lumang sistema. Pangalawa, ang kilusang nais pabagsakin ang estado na kumakatawan sa bagong sistema na nais nitong ipalit sa status quo (sa kaso ng Pilipinas, ang PKP). Itong dalawang pwersa lamang ang kinokonsidera kong mayor na kontradiksyon sapagkat kahit mismo ang estado-poder ay aminado na ang pinakamalaking banta sa kanya ay ang kilusang nais magpabagsak sa kanya - ang PKP.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Kahit hawak ng estado (sa ngayon) ang pinakamalakas na puwersa (dahil sa AFP at PNP), humihina ito dahil sa pagkakawatak-watak ng mga naghaharing-uri na nakaluklok sa estado-poder. Kaya nagkakaroon sila ng mga paksyon ( paksyon sa administrasyon at oposisyon). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sa kabilang banda, ang kilusang nagsusulong upang ibagsak ang estado, nagkokonsolida ng kanyang kapangyarihan habang nagkakagulo ang mga may hawak ng estado-poder. Kaya nakikinabang ito ng husto sa pagkakawatak-watak ng mga naghaharing-uri sa estado-poder. Nabibigyan ito ng panahong makapagpalawak at makapagpalakas habang naghahanda sa panahong harap-harapan nitong aagawain ang estado-poder mula sa mga naghaharing-uring nakaluklok ngayon sa kapangyarihan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sa unang hati nitong taon, kapansin-pansin ang pagdalas ng mga armadong komprontasyon sa pagitan ng AFP-PNP laban sa NPA na siyang armadong kamay ng PKP. Ipinagmamalaki din ng PKP na halos humigit-kumulang na sa 130 na ang kanilang larangang gerilya sa buong bansa. Kaya malamang madadagdagan pa ito, lalo na ngayong nababalaho sa sariling "kaguluhan" ang estado-poder at hindi ito nakakapagpalakas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Para makausad ang ating bansa sa kasalukuyan nitong pagkabalaho (sa lahat na aspekto, pampulitika, pang-ekonomiya, pangkultura atbp), kailangang magkaroon ng wakas ang kontradiksyon ng dalawang nagbabanggaang puwersa. Kailangang magkaroon ng resolusyon. Kailangang tuluyang magapi ang alinman sa dalawa upang makausad ang ating bansa. Kaya nararapat lamang na maganap ang sukdulan ng kanilang paghaharap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ngunit sa huli, nasa mamamayan ang bola. Nasa kanila kung saang panig sila kakampi. Sa estado-poder ba (hindi na usapin kung oposisyon o administrasyon dahil sa esensya ay pareho lamang silang nais masolo ang estado-poder), o kaya naman sa kilusang nais pabagsakin ito? Nasa paglahok ng mamamayan ang bola upang mapabilis ang sukdulan ng paghaharap ng dalawang panig. Kapag nanatiling pasibo ang mamamayan, magtatagal ang ganitong kalagayan na lalo namang magdudulot ng hirap sa mamamayan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Sa ganitong kalagayan, maoobliga dapat ang bawat isa sa atin na pumili kung saan papanig at lalahok. Ito lamang ang paraan upang makaigpaw ang bansa natin sa pagkabalaho sa lahat na aspekto. Kapag hindi natin ito ginawa, para na ring kinondena natin ang ating mga sambayanan sa "hundreds of years of solitudes". At ito ang matindi, ayon nga kay Gabriel Garcia Marquez, "races  condemned to oned hundred years of solitudes does not have second opportunity on earth".      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-112157115220748840?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/112157115220748840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=112157115220748840' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112157115220748840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112157115220748840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/07/kontradiksyon.html' title='Kontradiksyon'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-112156686884428684</id><published>2005-07-16T14:33:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-07-16T15:21:08.853-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Translation (Dahon nga Laya)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Approximately ay ito ang translation. Approximately dahil naniniwala akong "poetry is what's lost in translation".  Kahit ang pamagat mismo ay hindi ko isinalin sapagkat kapag isinalin ito na "Tuyong Dahon" ay nawawala ang harayang daladala ng "Dahon Nga Laya". Lalo pa sapagkat ang konsepto ng "Dahon nga Laya" ay may nakaimbak nang haraya sa "psyche" ng mga gumagamit ng wikang bisaya (cebuano ang tawag dito ng mga nasa akademya).  May mga salitang hindi ko pinalitan dahil wala pa akong nakikitang angkop na katumbas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dahon nga laya&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sa kanyang paghimlay sa sinapupunan ng lupa,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Binuhay sa alaala yaong matamis na kahapon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pagkat ang kanyang buhay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;ay ang buhay na &lt;em&gt;sugilanon&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng marahang pag-usbong,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng paglago at pagyabong,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng luntiang pamamahayag,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sa makatwirang batas,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng kalikasang,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;       - ina nating lahat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oo, lumutang sa kanyang balintataw,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang tamis ng ulan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang ganda ng araw,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At ang rilag ng buwan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kasama ang mga bituin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;sa maliwanag na gabi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oo, nagbalik sa kanyang alaala,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang pait ng pagtitiis,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang sakit ng mga kabiguan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang pagsalunga ng mga unos,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang pagluha ng maiitim na ulap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At pagluluksa sa gitna ng karimlan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oo, binuhay niya yaong mga &lt;em&gt;panid&lt;/em&gt; ng buntung-hininga&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Kasama ang pagsikat at paglubog,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang &lt;em&gt;pagpabilin&lt;/em&gt; at paglisan,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ang &lt;em&gt;kamingaw&lt;/em&gt; at &lt;em&gt;pagkahingop&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Habang &lt;em&gt;nahinuklog&lt;/em&gt; sa pagmumuni-muni, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sa bawat saglit na pakikitalad,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng nagpupumiglas na mga damdamin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;       - ng makabuluhang buhay.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ngunit hanggang baliktanaw na lamang siya,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hanggang pagdaing  na lamang at buntunghininga,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Sapagkat ganap na ang kanyang &lt;em&gt;sugilanon&lt;/em&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tanda na lahat tayo ay may kamatayan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ganunpaman, hindi nawawalan ng pag-asa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Pagkat ang kanyang &lt;em&gt;pagkalaya&lt;/em&gt; ay siyang simula&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ng bagong dahong,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Magpapatuloy sa pangarap na bukas. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-112156686884428684?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/112156686884428684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=112156686884428684' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112156686884428684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112156686884428684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/07/translation-dahon-nga-laya.html' title='Translation (Dahon nga Laya)'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-112028450971922202</id><published>2005-07-01T18:59:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-07-01T19:08:29.723-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Dahon nga laya</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dahil panahon ngayon ng generation change, ang &lt;em&gt;balak&lt;/em&gt; (tula) ay para sa henerasyon ng mga oldies na unti-unti nang nagiging bahagi ng alikabok  sa balat ng mundo.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dahon nga laya&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa iyang pagpahulay sa taguangkan sa yuta,&lt;br /&gt;Gihanduraw kadtong matam-is nga kagahapon.&lt;br /&gt;Sanglit ang iyang kinabuhi&lt;br /&gt;Mao man ang buhing sugilanon,&lt;br /&gt;Sa inanayng pagtubo,&lt;br /&gt;Sa paglipang ug paglambo,&lt;br /&gt;Sa berdeng pagpapamatuod,&lt;br /&gt;Sa makatarunganong balaod,&lt;br /&gt;Sa inahan natong tanan&lt;br /&gt;-         ang kinaiyahan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oo, milutaw sa iyang paghanduraw&lt;br /&gt;Ang katam-is sa ulan,&lt;br /&gt;Ang kaanyag sa adlaw,&lt;br /&gt;Ang katahum sa bulan,&lt;br /&gt;Uban ang mga bituon&lt;br /&gt;sa mahayag nga kagabhion.&lt;br /&gt;Oo, midangat sa iyang panumduman&lt;br /&gt;Ang kapait sa mga pag-antus,&lt;br /&gt;Ang kasakit sa mga kapakyasan,&lt;br /&gt;Ang kapit-us sa mga unos,&lt;br /&gt;Ang paghilak sa naglugitum nga dag-um&lt;br /&gt;Ug pagbakho sa tumang kangitngit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oo, iyang gibuhi kadtong mga panid sa panghupaw,&lt;br /&gt;Uban sa pagsidlak ug pagsalop,&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagpabilin ug pagpanaw,&lt;br /&gt;Sa kamingaw’g pagkahinangop,&lt;br /&gt;Samtang nahinuklog sa pagpamalandong,&lt;br /&gt;Sa matag gutlo nga pakigharong,&lt;br /&gt;Sa dili mapugngang mga pagbati&lt;br /&gt;-         niining bililhon nga kinabuhi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apan kutob na lamang siya sa paghanduraw,&lt;br /&gt;Sa pagtu-aw ug pagpanghupaw,&lt;br /&gt;Tungod kay nahuman na ang iyang sugilanon,&lt;br /&gt;Timailhan nga kitang tanan may kamatayon.&lt;br /&gt;Apan bisan pa niini, dili gayud mawad-an sa paglaum&lt;br /&gt;Kay ang iyang pagkalaya mao man ang sinugdanan&lt;br /&gt;Sa bag-ong dahon,&lt;br /&gt;Nga magapadayon sa gipangandoy nga kaugmaon.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-112028450971922202?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/112028450971922202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=112028450971922202' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112028450971922202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/112028450971922202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/07/dahon-nga-laya.html' title='Dahon nga laya'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111857135365559412</id><published>2005-06-11T22:43:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-06-11T23:15:53.663-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Pagmumuni-muni ng isang lagalag</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nostalgia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;                   &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;   He shall shout with all his might amidst the thunder and the rain. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;                      And the nothingness of his soul shall be filled.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The spirit of silence shall bind you all in stillness.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen. Just listen and lend me your sight. And my face will show you all the thoughts I have. Take me for what I am. Take me for who I am. For I am just me, Badjung Talabusaw, flesh and bone of my great grandfathers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not going to tell you here about great exploits for I have none. Great exploits are the times of my forefathers. And I am just me, Badjung Talabusaw, a nobody. I am just someone who has never seen the glory of my ancestors. But let me share to you something. Something which is the only thing I have. Please, allow me to share the nostalgia. Yes, the wistfulness in my eyes. For the glory of my ancestors is a thing of the past. And the only thing I’ve inherited is the nostalgia brewing deep inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I admit I never felt like this before. Not within my ten years of solitary existence. I mean, just by myself. Shaping my own path the way I would like it. Dreaming the dreams I’ve shared with fellow dreamers. Dreams that made me dream of more dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nostalgia. But it's a different kind of nostalgia. It is melancholic longing of a soul tormented in its nothingness. Ah! Never had I felt this thing before. For nostalgia is an alien feeling to a wanderer. But now it is knocking right in the brittleness of my skull. And as it hammers down my heart, it brings me back to the dreamer I once called I. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it was the dreamer that started it all. He was a defiant dreamer. And in his youthfulness he believed that it is but rightful for a rebellious lad to go away. To search on his own the answers to his questions. And in his belief he was convinced to start the epic saga of going far away from home (or from the house). Yes, it’s just from the house since home has a feeling of belongingness. And when you don’t feel it, it’s merely a house. A physical structure. A mere shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The insolent dreamer thought that it is a nature of troubled living. It is the law of nature upon families where the quest for food is more important than to feel the comforts of home. Knowing this, no guilt or fear could hound his solitary quest. And in such a situation, the lure of adventure is just too great to resist. Yes, adventure. Juvenile longings of a youthful soul. A rebellious soul! For what could be sweeter than to savor the taste of adventure? For what could be sweeter than freedom?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there are misadventures. And the law of nature declared that he who is young and solitary shall suffer the consequences of his ignorance. Of his arrogance. And so, the rebellious dreamer tasted the bitter fruit of his insolence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is in his nature to struggle. He understood that it is the law of nature to struggle. To endure and persevere in hunger. Because surrender would be a certain death. Ah! Those were the days of hard toil. But he defied the scorching sun in the fields. He defied the law of weight like the enduring ant. The heavy sacks of rice and corn could not break his shoulders. The bone-breaking toil could not break his bones. The animalistic toil could only testify to his never ever wavering youthful vigor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such things though were not unique to him. For in this age of modernity, the glory of his ancestors is a thing of the past. And so, the consequence is for them to master the bolo before wielding the pencil. To master the plow and the carabao before mastering the books. And yes, his kind is conscripted to the proverbial toil in the fields!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The defiant dreamer lived on to dream more dreams. And in his eagerness to learn, he worked while studying and studied while working. He mastered his arithmetic from the daily habit of counting his extremely low wages (then 40 pesos a day which means working from 6am-6pm). But before he could multiply it and divide, nothing is left after subtracting the debt he had incurred in the sari-sari stores. Oftentimes the resulting difference is a negative, which prompts him to incur more debt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But because he was adventurous, the dreamer persevered. Being young and eager to learn, he continued working while studying and studying while working. Hunger has been his constant companion. But he lived on with courage he never knew where he got. He survived the life and death struggle for existence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, he struggled more to prove his existence. And that struggle slowly nurtured the insolent dreamer into maturity. Despite his youthfulness, he learned the value of education. He learned that the struggle for existence is education itself. This belief molded the foundation of his maturity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those were the things engraved in the dreamer’s youthful mind. Study and find a good job after studying. Because a good job would have a good pay. A good pay would mean a sort of freedom, “economic freedom” for an individual. But then the concept of freedom grows while the bones are growing. And the rebellious dreamer has never tired of searching answers for the questions that stoked his rebellion. Ah! Those were deep-rooted questions that he always tried to dig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, growth has its tow of changes. The change of the physical features and the workings of the mind. The gradual change of dreams. Ah! There was once a little dreamer nourished by famine. His bones grew strong with bone-breaking toil in the fields. His muscles were harnessed amidst the struggle to prove his existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! It is true that the concept of freedom grows while the bones grow strong. And amidst that growth the insolent dreamer found the love of freedom. The love of freedom that grew strong while the muscles were harnessed by difficulties. The love of freedom inflamed with the memories of the scorching sun. Of the bone-breaking load upon the tender shoulder bones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alas! The love of freedom is no longer the selfish lure of adventure. It is no longer the selfish dreams of the insolent dreamer. Ah! The glory of his ancestors that he has never seen dawned upon the defiant dreamer. The glory of the people who are now slaves in this so-called age of modernity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was how the defiant dreamer became a man from the ruggedness of his youth. He came to know the love of freedom from the adventurous longings of his youthfulness. Suffice it is to say he was molded completely amidst the rat race. Well, it is no peculiar thing in a country where rat race is "normal". Survival of the fittest. That old Darwinian dictum. Or is it the law of nature?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the dreamer came to value experience as a virtue. Yes, experience. It has bolstered his struggle for existence. And he lived on. He lives within me. Yes, within me, Badjung Talabusaw, flesh and bones of my great grandfathers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I, a nobody, have survived this long because I am nourished by the love of freedom. I have lasted this far despite my nothingness because I have learned to love and be loved. This is by far, the greatest achievement I consider. This is the thing that brought me the only wealth I have – nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must tell you that before I have found the love of freedom, hate nursed me to survive. For it is a hateful thing to know you are oppressed. It is a hateful thing to know that there is no other role offered to you than to be a slave. A slave in the fields, factories, construction works and others. But when hate consumes you, you will never know why you became a slave. The thought of vengeance will make you forget history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then I have found the love of freedom. Ah! It is the love that made me strong. The only thing I have inherited from thousands of my ancestors. For did not my great grandfathers fought tooth and nail against alien domination? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! I have learned to love and be loved! And it has brought me the only wealth I have – nostalgia. Yes, I have been far away from home for so long. And the memories of home are fleeting in my sight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah! The insolent dreamer is coming home to share his wanderings. For he has come to know that there’s no place like home. Besides, his home is no longer the old cogon hut but the land of his ancestors. For is he not Badjung Talabusaw, flesh and bone of his great grandfathers? &lt;br /&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111857135365559412?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111857135365559412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111857135365559412' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111857135365559412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111857135365559412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/06/pagmumuni-muni-ng-isang-lagalag.html' title='Pagmumuni-muni ng isang lagalag'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111803662412058445</id><published>2005-06-05T18:07:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-06-05T18:43:44.130-11:00</updated><title type='text'>My early years of wandering</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Itid the wanderer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the time I’ve noticed the world around me, I’ve lived a nomadic life. It’s not because my family is of a pure &lt;em&gt;lumad&lt;/em&gt; descent. But because times call for it (my father would often say).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I learned to search and gather food, I've believed I existed independently. I was then a weakling five year-old. And we were living in a primitive hut in the far flung margins of civilization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I will tell you my early years of wandering. The years when my bones were harnessed and my muscles were hardened. It all started when I was still a weakling five-year old. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first venture of wandering was in a nearby stream. It was a cold morning. I walked downstream. I was fascinated with the clear flowing water. I walked and waded through the stream. I felt the coolness of the stream soothing my entire body. It was my first conscious intercourse with nature. It was a memorable adventure of a young free spirit. I could even feel its pleasure even as I write this piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not remember though how far I have ventured. I can only remember that the Kalaws sounded their afternoon &lt;em&gt;merienda&lt;/em&gt; alarm when I got home. I can still recall the mixed feelings of my mother. She was angry, furious, worried and afraid. She thought I was already eaten by some fierce creatures lurking around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first wandering taught me simple but hard lesson – never venture unprepared. I’ve only brought a bolo with me and I forgot to bring a match. So when I felt the coldness of the water seeping through my flesh and bones, I was not able to build a fire. And that was very dangerous. Because along with the terrible coldness, hunger came scratching my stomach. That was the first time I’ve came to know hunger. My stomach then was grumbling and the excruciating pain was like a knife wounding me slowly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only felt a little relief when I saw a wild ripened banana. The banana is widely known as &lt;em&gt;agutay&lt;/em&gt; in our tongue, I mean our indigenous tongue. But I was still very hungry when I got home. I did not even care to listen to my mother’s sermons while I was eating. A cup of hot aromatic native coffee settled my grumbling stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first venture was a great failure. But it was not able to traumatize me. It even challenged me for another exploit. The simple hard lesson of my first venture became my foundation for my next exploration. I just don’t know if the spirits of my ancestors are the ones stirring me to wander. It’s just that, I could not resist the call of adventure. And because I was a free spirit, I would always heed the call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My next venture occurred after my sixth birthday. It was not a well-planned one but at least I already have a lesson with me. The Kalaws were greeting the sunrise when I set out on my next venture. Or adventure as many would call it nowadays. I have brought with me my sharpened bolo and a matchbox I stole from the pocket of my father’s jacket. I also brought a slingshot and several small round stones. For my breakfast and lunch, I brought ten handfuls of &lt;em&gt;sinanglag&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;ha&lt;/em&gt; &lt;em&gt;mais&lt;/em&gt; (popcorn) stuffed in the oversized pockets of my pants. I have heard my father once that hunters always bring with them popcorn because it’s handy and effective against hunger. Of course, the bolo is mainly for protection against wild animals that may pose harm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My father wasn’t around then because he has gone early to visit our relatives in a distant barrio. That barrio is a two-day-walk from our primitive hut. My mother and my three-year-old brother were still sleeping then so I managed to slip quietly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve chosen to roam the nearby forest for my next venture. I have come to realize this late that it was a virgin forest. It has even crossed my mind that I may have seen rare species of the wild back then. But for a six-year-old, it was of no concern. I was after all in the stage of early exploration. The distinctions of the rare from the ordinary are of less importance to me. Besides, it was only nowadays that species in the wild are becoming rare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the Kalaws sounded again their alarm in the mid-morning (between sunrise and noontime), I’ve decided to eat my breakfast. I roasted one of the two &lt;em&gt;alimokons (kulo-kulo)&lt;/em&gt; I have downed with my slingshot. I was then beginning to mimic the different languages of the birds to make them come near and be an easy target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was already in the deep forest by then. When I finished my breakfast, I sat upon an old rock. The rock was covered all over with green moss. While I was practicing to mimic the lingo of the &lt;em&gt;alimokons&lt;/em&gt;, I noticed that there were creatures moving beneath the leaves in the forest floor. When I caught a glimpse of the moving creatures, I felt my heart beating faster. The moving creatures were snakes. Snakes of different kinds and sizes. Some were colorful while others were black and dull-colored.                &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;It’s the first time I’ve realized the danger of my venture. Even if I could hack the snakes from left to right, it would not be fast enough to hack them all. I was sure then that there would be at least one of the snakes that would be able to bite me. And I am pretty sure I would be dead if that will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was keenly observing the movements in the surroundings while thinking what to do. And I’ve noticed that the snakes didn’t dare to go near the coals of my bonfire. With that, I went to my bonfire and pondered what to do. Then I realized that the snakes were not interested with me after all. Well, that was my belief then and you can’t blame me. I was after all an innocent six-year-old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the movements under the pile of leaves, twigs and branches ceased, I’ve thought there’s no danger anymore. Besides, I’ve thought that the snakes would get nothing from me. It never crossed my mind that an adult python &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;could make a good meal out of me. Well, things like that will never cross the mind of a young free spirit. An innocent six-year-old whose curiosity to learn from his surroundings is just so great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little did I realize that I was already going up the mountain. It was already getting noon but it was still cold out there. Well, it’s a virgin forest after all. And as far as I can remember, it is only father who dared to venture deep into that mountain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was something in my mind then that is urging me to reach the top. And it makes me wonder now why I never felt tired back then. In the midst of the forest I could see scattered old trails. When I followed one of the trails going up, I saw animal traps. Those are possibly the traps that father has made when he ventured deep into that mountain. I even saw traps where there were remains of  wild boars and wild chickens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, after inspecting some of the remains I realized something. I realized it is very difficult to trace my path back! With that in mind, I preferred not to reach the summit of the mountain anymore. I opted to eat my lunch before finding my way back to our primitive cogon hut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While forcing my teeth to grind the hard popcorn, I’ve realized another hard lesson – always leave prominent marks in your path. My heart throbbed wildly when I thought that I might not be able to go home. But then another side of my brain was aroused. It gave me the feeling of thrill creeping through the sinews of my flesh. It was the first moment when I experienced mixed feelings. There was fear, excitement and thrill!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But after my simple rationalization, I’ve thought I would not be lost. I would just walk downwards and find the stream. And when I’ll found the stream, I would just walk upstream and I will never miss our old cogon hut. With that in mind, I’ve started my descent. Fortunately, my calculations were accurate and I’ve descended on the right stream. I’m certain it’s the stream leading near to our hut because I’ve reached that part of the stream on my first venture. I even saw the remains of the &lt;em&gt;agutay&lt;/em&gt; that I felled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was already dusk when I finally got home. And for my second adventure, I got a bitter reward. Well, suffice it is to say I got a nice beating from my mother. The following morning, I saw my nervous mother packing all our clothes. She reminded me not to go astray again. She added that we would just wait for my father and then we would go away from that place. She never told us why. I have only come to know the whole story of our sudden evacuation when I was already a nine year-old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the night when I received a nice beating, I was able to sleep soundly. It could be due to the fatigue of my one day exploit. But my mother wasn’t able to sleep that night. She was weaving a &lt;em&gt;banig&lt;/em&gt; when she heard a crying baby in the nearby stream. Then a purring cat followed. After a while, she heard a heavy object hit the ground. She was horrified. What she has heard had the imprints of a &lt;em&gt;mantianak&lt;/em&gt;. According to local lore, it is an evil creature that eats human beings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the very reason why my mother looked nervous on the following morning. Our neighbors, who were located about two kilometers away, opined that maybe the spirits do not want us to dwell in that place. It is the first time they’ve told us that the former inhabitants of the area have evacuated for the same reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my father arrived after two weeks, my mother was very mad. She was even crying in mixed feelings of anger, fear and frustration. When my father knew why, we were told to prepare. We were to transfer to another place. While my mother and father were preparing our baggage, I and my three-year-old brother were trying to catch our ducks and chickens. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The melancholic alarm of the kalaws in an early morning signaled our exodus. It’s the first exodus I could recall but it’s already the nth time that the family transferred to another place. Father prepared a huge &lt;em&gt;lupot&lt;/em&gt; (cooked rice wrapped by green banana leaves) for our food along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for me, I was unwilling to evacuate. I’ve learned then that I loved the place. It is where I was awakened to the world around me. It is where my youthful curiosity was roused to action. It is where my free spirit dared to venture into the unknown. It is where I’ve learned to conquer the primeval fear of the unknown. It is where I’ve first experienced the joys of simplicity, freedom, independence!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But then, it would be foolish for a six-year-old to remain alone on that far flung edge of civilization. That place in the world I would remember as a paradise. And as we walked away, I kept looking back. I've kept looking back even until today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I will never forget that paradise. For it is there I’ve first embraced the life of a wanderer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111803662412058445?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111803662412058445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111803662412058445' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111803662412058445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111803662412058445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/06/my-early-years-of-wandering.html' title='My early years of wandering'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111768173664826900</id><published>2005-06-01T16:08:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T16:08:56.650-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Flickr</title><content type='html'>This is a test post from &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/r/testpost"&gt;&lt;img alt="flickr" src="http://www.flickr.com/images/flickr_logo_blog.gif" width="41" height="18" border="0" align="absmiddle" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, a fancy photo sharing thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111768173664826900?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111768173664826900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111768173664826900' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111768173664826900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111768173664826900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/06/flickr.html' title='Flickr'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111768098006282633</id><published>2005-06-01T15:31:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-06-01T15:56:20.066-11:00</updated><title type='text'>The Law</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Law&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I solemnly watched the sunset. I leaned heavily on a weather-battered rock beside the lake. There was silence. The stillness of the lake absorbed my thoughts into the depths of unfathomable silence. Ah! Such moment creeps into the flesh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are moments like this when the urge to ponder is too great to resist. Such moments reveal the hidden desires of the heart. For within the confines of unfathomable silence, everything hidden is revealed. The bare naked truth is revealed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have long denied the desire to go home. But silence prevailed. Over me. And now, it is already written: I am longing to go home.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Yes, moments like this are nostalgic. The air seems to absorb the warmness of those memories. And the crimson sky in the horizon overlords the unfathomable silence. In my mind, I could hear my thoughts flowing vibrantly like the stream. I could see the purple mountain ranges. I could see the verdant valleys. I could feel the coolness of the rivers. Ah! I could go deeper into the vastness of silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, after years of wandering in this strange land I finally long to see the familiar mountains. The mountains where I’ve spent the joys of my childhood. The wildness of those days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am trying to establish coherence on my thoughts. Striving to squeeze some sense on my gibberish. Because sometimes it doesn’t make sense to write these things. Sometimes it is just better to feel the nostalgia. To feel the peculiar feeling brewing inside you. Or feel the peculiar sensation of the rubbing of sinews of your muscles under your skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I guess I am going emotional already. It's just good sometimes to release the fervent desires. And a wanderer like me could not be blamed for that. Even in the early times of my great grandfathers, adventurers always strive to come home. To sit by the fire and share the story of their wanderings. And I, Uto Lumbayaw, flesh and bones of my great grandfathers, is no exemption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, maybe because I am feeling now that my adventure in this faraway land is already over. I am thinking that the purpose of my stay in this faraway land is already finished. For I have already mastered domestication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I have mastered domestication. And domestication has never mastered me. That’s the most important thing I have achieved in this wandering. They may call me a savage because of my different ways. But then, they should not forget that I am of the wild. The wild gave birth to me. And because of that, my ways are different. They must not wonder why I’ve chosen this kind of life. Because it is my nature. The nature of the wild. Of young rebellious soul. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is because of my insolence that I came to know the workings of the world. With my wanderings, I have learned that it is still the primeval law that governs all the things. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. Survival of the fittest. Yes, it is still the law. There is no difference even if the settings are different. In the corridors of hustling business districts down to the chaotic slums, the law is still the same. And that is to kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tooth for a tooth. Eye for an eye. And that is life. Because that is the law.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111768098006282633?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111768098006282633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111768098006282633' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111768098006282633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111768098006282633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/06/law.html' title='The Law'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111750270073958711</id><published>2005-05-30T14:10:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-05-30T14:25:00.746-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Life&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There’s a time for everything,&lt;br /&gt;because time is always there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                                           &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have lived for more than two decades now. Maybe, it’s quite a young age to ponder about life. To ponder about everything when people expect you to be always on the go. Sometimes, that’s to the extent of being recklessly aggressive. Yet, I hope you would bear my somewhat “little” philosophizing about life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passes. That’s the belief of so many people. And because of that, so many people always hurry.  “To be able to do many things,” they would say. Because life for them, is to do many things. And to those who are obsessed in competition, “to accomplish more than anyone had”.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Time is wasted on the young,” many old folks would opine. Some would call the restless youth as “youth with no direction”. And they believe that such kind would arrive at nothing. They do not even bother to know why there is such thing as a “restless youth”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Time is gold,” so capitalists declared. And because of that, anyone who takes it easy is an aberration. And that anyone who saunters leisurely is a happy-go-lucky simpleton. Because accordingly, time is so precious that it should be spent on “productive” things. On things that would have value in the market. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not however inclined to believe such concepts of time. It is my judgment that the so-called preciousness of time is a grand anomaly. This may sound irreverent but please allow me to share my insolent views.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many people are fond of measuring the value of life. And to that, they would use the quantity of “accomplishments” as a gauge. For corporate ideologues, the value of life could be measured in terms of the profits from one’s labor. For some, the value of life depends on the greatness of one’s goal in life. And all of these beliefs are hinged on the so-called preciousness of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I do not subscribe to such beliefs. Because to measure the value of life in the narrow-minded gauge such as “accomplishments, corporate profits and greatness of goals” is totally wrong. To declare the preciousness of time and forget that life is more valuable would be patently inhumane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is about living. Living is not about accomplishing so many things. Living is not about working like beasts and machines. Living is not solely the domain of seeking greatness. Living should not be limited in the confines of the so-called preciousness of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The passing of time is the concept of those who do not “live” at all. Because time never passes. It is just always there because it is infinite. It is us who passes by time! Because it us who pass away when our breath is gone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I say time doesn’t pass but we do – life does. And so, it is but logical that we, that life is more valuable than time. We always have the luxury of time, but we don’t always have the luxury of living!  &lt;br /&gt;When people hurry, they are trying to race against time. They do not realize that they can never overtake time. Time is always there and it is everywhere because it is infinite. To race against it is a folly. Racing against time will surely wear you out. And you will never win against it.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is not however my point here to be lax and not to care on everything. My point is, take a deeper look at things around. Try to appreciate every breath. You breathe yet you seldom give value to your breathing. You will only realize how good it is to breathe when you’re already fighting for your dear life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I hope you can bear with my “little” philosophizing about life. That life is not about the quantity of things you have done. That it is not the speed of doing things. That it is not the greatness of the goals that matters.  Life is about savoring the moments. That it is about the nobleness of simplicity. Life is about living!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there’s a time for everything. Precisely, because time is always there.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111750270073958711?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111750270073958711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111750270073958711' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111750270073958711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111750270073958711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/05/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13268903.post-111742144547269456</id><published>2005-05-29T15:32:00.000-11:00</published><updated>2005-05-29T15:50:45.476-11:00</updated><title type='text'>Ang kauna-unahang pagsabak sa blogging world</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;May blog na ako.&lt;/span&gt;   &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ngayon ko lang naisakatuparan ang matagal ko ring pinagmunimunihang gawin. Hindi ko alam kung bakit pero napakaraming bagay ang naglalaro sa isip ko hinggil sa pagkakaroon ng blog. Pero sa wakas, nakapagdesisyon na ako. Mula sa araw na ito, hayaan ninyong ibahagi ko sa inyo ang iba't ibang bagay na tumatalsik sa masalimuot na proseso ng aking abuhing utak. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Medyo malungkot ang tugtog ngayon na aking naririnig. Nostalgic. Parang ang sarap tumambay sa tabing-dagat. Dapithapon. Tahimik. At ang paglilikot ng ng mga alon ay nilalamon ng dambuhalang katahimikan. Nang katahimikang pati ang isip ay nilalamon sa walang hanggang katahimikan. Mahiwagang katahimikan. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Ikagagalak kong magsulat dito kong malalaman kong aabangan mo ang mga susunod kong hirit sa buhay. Sa mga pangyayari sa buhay. Sa kaganapan ng mga bagay bagay na bumubulabog sa katahimikan. Masarap magsulat kung may nagbabasa. Ito ang pangunahing dahilan kung bakit matagal kong pinagmunimunihang magsulat dito. Parang wala kaseng kabuluhan ang magsulat ka kung wala namang magbabasa. Hindi ko naman pinangarap na ang tekstong ito ay magiging katulad ng hieroglyphic na magdudulot ng pagkamangha sa mga taong mabubuhay paglipas ng 1 bilyong taon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Bukas, sisimulan ko nang magpost dito ng kung anu-ano. Maaring kwento siguro. O kaya maliliit na pagmumunimuni sa mga hiwaga ng buhay. Buhay. Dahil iyon ang pinamahalagang bagay sa mundo para sa akin.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;table width="92" height="35" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/top.png" width="92" height="5"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/left.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="80" height="12"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://www.pro-counter.com/cgi-bin/gd-count.cgi?page=http://tagabukid.blogspot.com&amp;style=blue_box2&amp;nbdigits=8&amp;reloads=1" alt="isp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td width="6" height="30" rowspan="2"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/right.png" width="6" height="30"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td width="80"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pro-counter.com"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.pro-counter.com/img/digits/blue_box2/bottom.png" width="80" height="18" border="0"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="2" &gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="2" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.mydatanet.com"&gt;isp&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt; 

&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13268903-111742144547269456?l=itid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/feeds/111742144547269456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13268903&amp;postID=111742144547269456' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111742144547269456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13268903/posts/default/111742144547269456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itid.blogspot.com/2005/05/ang-kauna-unahang-pagsabak-sa-blogging.html' title='Ang kauna-unahang pagsabak sa blogging world'/><author><name>itid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08984186195338555267</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
