The Normal Thing

Perhaps this is the most crucial blog post I'll ever do, since I know that somehow, there would be someone I know that may be lurking around the web trying to decipher what my mind has to say about this issue I once scrammed away from.

As a state university student, I have gone used with all the pandemonium by the students striving to be heard by those in higher position. Since we are paying less for the quality education we all have the right to acquire, having insufficient funds and inadequate facilities are quite inevitable. These matters pushes most students to take on the risks which I believe isn't the last resort (if ever contemplated well): rallies.

These are some of the issues which state university students are battling for: (photos taken during the STAND-PNU campaign)

WARNING: HEAVY IMAGES AHEAD

Sate Universities Privatization

Privatizing state universities, as it title goes, means that the government would no longer have the full control of the state universities' funds. Yes, it may open a lot of opportunities for us students since private stock holders have greater funds to support us but (you expect the big catch right?) they'll also have greater opportunity on transforming us into income-generating business. In short, bulging tuition fees for the scholars.

Student Fiscal Autonomy

Greater State Subsidy on Education

I believe only 10% (or maybe less) of the annual national budget is allotted for the education sector, international debts being the top-most priority.

Against Campus Repression

State Abandonment on Education

12.8 Million Budget Cut (yes, I am not exaggerating on that)

Regular Student Consultation

Against Commercialization

Education as a right

I have never been into a rally, or a mobilization, or whatever you may please to call it, but I do not loathe those who did or will, I, in fact commend them for being so brave in flaunting what they think is right, or perhaps what they think is a right. However, I think that we all have our own way of expressing ourselves, and in our own little ways, we are all making differences, no matter how big or small that differences may be.

A professor once told me that in order to change the discrepancies around you, you must start from healing yourself, and I firmly believe on that.

Dark Hole

The Dark Hole

by Rhea Gulin

There is this dark hole.
A huge, deep, filthy dark hole.
A hole none had ever seen,
A hole that lies from within.

They say that the dark hole can be seen through the eyes,

And that its feeling is as cold as ice.

Yet, it is buried deep within the human soul,

That huge, deep, filthy dark hole.

It is what identifies a man differently,

To the empty lonely streets of where it threw its wrecked family.

It is what builds up a murky and infinite wall,

This huge, deep, filthy dark hole.

The hole is filled up of you all in avante-garde suite.

Grotesque, absurd and feeds on a bitter fruit.

It's what makes you breathe,

But on death is where it lead.

I reckon the hole had once pulled me in,

Drowning me to a creepy ocean of each possible sin.

It got caverns of gold and mine,

and I have preserved all its transgressions in my mind.

The dark hole is inside each and everyone,

It's strongest during our slumber and fades with the sun.

Nevertheless it's what stitches our nightmares,

Off to the surreal yet spooky lairs.

I am speaking right inside my dark hole.

The huge, deep, filthy dark hole.

And I am feeling right before my every veins,

Your dark hole too, is buffing up to see you in candy canes.

I am in the dark hole.

I have the dark hole.

I am the dark hole.

You are in the dark hole.

You too, have the dark hole.

You are the dark hole.

Meet my inspiration, Wednesday Addams.

Isn't she such a sweetheart? 

Musings in National Museum

Since I am studying on a place wherein significant landmarks are very much accessible, it's really hard to resist the travel pants within me. In spite the fact that it had been only a year when I first officially got in hold of my freedom in the metro, I have been caught everywhere, but these instances were significant for my course, and I didn't just go apparating from one place to another all for the sake of leisure, well, most of the time.

The first place I have been to with my college friends was on National Museum, which was literally just a street away from our university. Since it was my first time, I was all very blissful about it and I was simultaneously clicking my camera if ever I'll have the chance. It had been over half a year ago, so forgive me if I happen to forget some things about the pictures.

WARNING: HEAVY IMAGE POST

On the threshold of the museum, these three ogle-worthy statues will welcome you. They may arrive somehow naughty but if you will examine its technical aspect, its excellence is really evident.

Unleash the Perry the Perv

There were also other statues that are also brilliant in their own ways...which I completely forgot what they were expressing.

Aside from statues, they also have masterpieces in the medium of painting.

Lady Spoliarium 

But the painting that really caught my attention was Fernando Amorsolo's last painting before he died. How sweet it is to be enticing on your wife on your last breath.

Almost. by Fernando Amorsolo

There were also an entire floor dedicated for science discoveries.

I was actually quite sad about the fact that they got no beetles. Oh wait, have I told you already that I like beetles?

They got a floor of fossils; from underground fossils to land animals and to human.

This photo is a dog biting an alligator who was trying to feed on her puppy. Blame my lame photography if you're not seeing that story.

A Mother's Love

The primitive life of Filipinos.

The sweet serendipity of the Pearl of the Orient Sea and the shenanigans with it.

Son, you can never break our plates.

The Galleon Trade ship

I had photography on photos. (Redundancy?)

Hall of Face

There was also some sort of a graveyard hall, wherein you can see real corpse that were fixed... the creepy way. The smell of formalin was killing me, to the point that actually I thought that's how they killed those men.

Don't ask me what this is.

YOU MAD??

Fancy shooting everyone's ass.

Toodles! 

Post Title

I have been devoting more than half of my vacation days, or better yet, nights (since I've gone completely nocturnal), rummaging the web for written works with the hope that they may somehow penetrate deep in my own aesthetics in writing. I have stumbled upon a wide range of literary pieces: from short essays to biographies, from prose to poetry; from free writing to classical; and a whole lot more each having their own eternal yet somehow obscured or sporadic yet very much exposed charm and grotesque. Along these facts lingers the truth that, the world have such an infinite puddle of writers.

I believe it was on my fourth grade when I first tried writing, I wrote a very lengthy script for one of our class activity about racism which, unfortunately, was no use since our teacher didn't pursue the activity. That time I had no idea what I was doing, all I knew was that I had the complete freedom on contemplating what was going to happen in the story, no limitations, no pressures, no rules. I was of course, too frenzied about that fact since I happened to had only the four corners of my room as my paradise (which I am not loathsome about). Then, my bliss about quills haven't stopped: I exerted optimal efforts (which my classmates find a bit trivial) on our English writing activities, I joined our school paper organization, and the rest is history.

In my own rights I have believed that I am a catch. Since I was one of the toast on our schools because I have won several writing competitions (since that was the only thing I am good at), it kind of installed to my mind that I have an illuminating future on the field I chose, and suddenly turned out to be my most enticing dream. I ain't lifting my own bench but as far as I can see, I am really improving as I age, which is very much normal, I think. However, as I age, I also get to see that I am living in a fast reproducing world, and that there are also young writers who are experiencing the same thing as I do. So, I may concur that the world is full of toasts but has no decent supply for peanut butter and jelly (Yes, that was supposed to be a metaphor. And yes, I am hungry as I am writing this).

The world itself is truly overwhelming, and so is the realization that there are millions of people who are bound to take my plane trip in the literary field as well. All my life I was caged; caged with the true bitterness of the world, and caged by the people who kept on making me believe that life is a great stick of bottomless cotton candy (Yay for the food metaphor again). I was nevertheless perplexed on how the true world seems to be relatively preposterous, and that I should be the same too if I wish to survive. I was boulder-dashed with the truth that I am good, yet someone happens to be better, and that better has his own inferiority towards someone he also sees as the better one, and the cycle goes on and on.

Build a niche they say- a niche wherein you're going to mingle with everyone who shares the same things you do, which will make you appear even more generic than ever. The thing with niches is that it was built by someone highly legendary, someone you would never try to battle, someone somehow divinely conspired. Also, with the fact that nowadays, everything has seemed to be unfurled, from human-freak love story to a dystopian remote game, it is really hard to avoid being just a mere shadow of such things that have gone eminently huge in the niche you have chosen. Every topics imaginable seems to have already been tackled, and the only trick now is to punch a different hole in it wherein there is more juice- where nobody have ever tried to punch one.

The peeve, however, no matter how crazy this world I am taking now, is that I have gone so far to revert everything. I am on the pre-stage of my real adventure, and the most crucial. I would be completely insincere if I am going to declare that my walk have always been straight (you can take that literally too). I have thought of backsliding and putting all my fantasies in my pocket, but every time I do, I am left with nothing to hold on too. Had it been my life? No. There are of course other things that may put into consideration on why I am still living. Had it been one of the most pungent force in keeping me going? Absolutely yes.

They say embrace your gift, but when you are still uncertain if that thing is a gift or if it really does exist, how can you embrace it? They say live your dreams, but when everyone seems to be pushing you towards the brim of that dreams, how would you make it alive?

Sparkle some pixie dust- or pray.

Book Review: The Hero and the Crown

It seems that the outrageous writer have had a change of heart lately: I've been rooting for adventures more than romantic dramas. Nicholas Sparks has always been my first love since A Walk to Remember, and because of that I've had greater eye on heart-binding stories instead of mind-spelling ones (that doesn't count Harry Potter of course), but maybe because of the whirling satisfaction I got from The Hobbit, on which I haven't yet moved on, my fantasies have been packed-up with uncanny creatures and enticing heroes and heroins.

BOOK-BUFF MANOMETER: 7/10

The Hero and the Crown had been bestowed with a John Newbery Medal for having a great contribution to American Literature for children.

The story revolves around the girl named Aerin, the daughter of Damar's King Arlbeth to a witch-woman, and her journey on decoding her true purpose on her kingdom and the truth (and lies) behind her true identity.

SYNOPSIS:

Aerin- sol (sol stands for princess) had never been seen as a full royalty by her Damarian constituents in spite the fact that she was the only heiress of their king, Arlbeth. Rumors had spread that Aerin's mother, a witch-woman from the north, had enspelled their king to bore her a son so that she may be in full control of Damar, but she died upon seeing that she gave birth to a girl rather than to a boy. Aerin's upbringing was not easy: there was Galanna, the second sol, who had always made her believe that she was a bastard on their family to the point of making her kill herself with the use of a surka plant (dangerous plant for royalties); there was the boastful Perlith, who later have married Galanna, whom like his wife, taught Aerin that she was no good; and, the clinging story about her true mother itself that made her believe everything Galanna and Perlith was telling her.

However, her father had never made her feel that she was not a part of the family. Teka, Aerin's personal maid, told her that King Arlbeth was not enspelled by her mother and was truly captivated by her good heart. There was also Thor, the first sola (sola stands for prince) who had been her childhood friend and eventually having a romantic sight over her.

One day when Aerin was still throbbed by the poison of the surka plant, she found a book on their royal library that was none of the like of those she grew up with, even though it discussed a thing she already knew: Damar's history. In the middle of the book she found a recipe of a kenet which was pertained to be the sole thing that can repel a dragon's fire.

Together with her father's aged yet still vigorous warhorse Talat, Aerin fought the dragons lurking around their city with the use of the Kenet, and thus, acquiring the title Dragon-Killer.

Along her dragon-slaying adventure, she met Luthe, a not-so-mortal family friend and found out the truth about her mother's death and her witch-man uncle, Agsded. She also have yet to regain the long-lost treasure of Damar which caused hundreds of crown-less Damarian kings and was the only key towards the defeat of the Northerners who were prodding their kingdom...

THE WOW'S:

* Robin Mckinley sure has a great command of language, and this fact can best be proven on how she plays with highfalutin words yet making it understandable even for the young readers.
* The way Mckinley described the settings was really good that you can actually vividly picture even the smallest details of the places.
* The characters was stupendously stitched and presented to the point that you cannot resist to loathe some of them (especially the boastful Galanna).
* I love it how she introduced eerie yet lovable creatures such as the folstzas, a breed of cat which can carry off a whole sheep or bring down a horse and the yerigs, the shaggy wild dogs with great ruffs and silky feather legs and long curling tails which were double the size of the normal hounds.


THE BOO'S:

* Maybe because of the front cover, I expected more of dragon-slaying scenes, which only came in two.
* The great dragon, Maur, or other dragon that may be greater than him, should have taken its part on the final dwell between the Damarians and the Northerners.
* I wish that Mckinley told what happened to Luthe after he parted with Aerin on the mountains.
* There was a certain dream Aerin had which was left hanging and was never answered by any part of the story.
* The story ended smoothly. Means no second installment for it...

QUOTABLE QUOTES:

"She had been an unusually large and awkward child who seemed able to break things simply by staying on the same room with them." - This is not quotable, I know, but I have a very strong connection with it.

"But I don't know that he and I are so unequal in the end; for as I made mistakes in ignorance, or obstinacy, he made mistakes in pride..." - Aerin-sol

"I would have asked you even if you hadn't brought the Crown back- believe me. If you'd never killed a dragon, if you broke all the dishes in the castle. If you were the daughter of a farmer. I've loved you, I've loved you- you know it., since your eighteenth birthday, but I think I've loved you all my life. I will marry no one if you'll not have me." - Thor-sola

Since the story's characters are the best thing in it (and because I doubt a producer will mind making a film out of it) I did a just casting for the story:

It was actually a battle between Emma Stone and Bonnie Wright for the slot of Aerin, since they're the best fire-headed stars in Hollywood. Needless to say, my Potterhead prevailed.

Tall. Troublesome. Clumsy. Courageous. Wait. I can be Aerin myself.

Photography.

That's kind of a weird thing, I know. A very gregarious blogger who has a plethora in the field of word playing named this post as simple as that.


Maybe only a few of you knows that one of my greatest frustrations, aside from music and painting, is photography. As a passionate blogger like me, it's kind of a necessity, well, an obligation for me to take shots of what is happening in my life so that I may vividly share it with my audience (if there is). I know for a fact that if I really want to progress as an amateur, I should know that my blog won't be able to stand with words alone, so, I decided to painstakingly learn the magic of photography by always carrying a digicam with me (since I don't have that sparkling thing everyone calls DSLR).

And these are the moments it mustered:

WARNING: HEAVY AMATEUR IMAGES AHEAD

Holy Cross @ Paco Park

Canopy @ Paco Park Manila

Worms Eye view @ Manila City Hall

First Educator @ National Museum Manila

Love at first sight @ Paco Park Manila

Dispute @ Paco Park Manila

Eloquence @ Philippine Normal University Manila

Bivisual @ Philippine Normal University Manila

Takoyaki Escapade @ United Nations Avenue Manila

Carry the Cross @ San Jose del Monte Bulacan

Pity-Petty Petinence @ San Jose del Monte Bulacan

German Furry Pals

Bromance

All photos except for the first one, since I prefer keeping its raw sanctity, were improved by Photoscape (if they really were improved).

So what can you say? I know I have more than a sack of rice to take in terms of photography, that's why I am starting it as early, or might as well as late as now.

I find most of the photos very trivial, since it's kinda elusive for me to capture interesting sights because I seldom go out of our house, but I assure you to venture my small world.

If you want more of my photography shenanigans, you may visit my Tumblr blog by clicking HERE and my Twitter account by clicking HERE.

Speaking of photography, you guys should meet Rainy. She is the one who made my blog's new header and she is a very good photographer. Very good means that she really don't have to use expensive cameras and embezzle some extra lenses to capture nice photographs. See her blog: Rainymartini

P.S: Your criticisms and comments are very much welcome! I need some just verdicts for my works.