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MARiA

My photo
physically or emotionally. a joker. maybe. a pacifier. at times. and... usually make the issues, people don't notice much.

BOOKS

  • Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas
  • Solitaire Mystery
  • Veronica Decides to Die
  • The Best Laid Plans

LABELS

December 04, 2008

Been there. Done that.

                  It’s been a year. Ima thinking of writing one last blog about us, or should i say him . How should i start then. I know this is stupid. But I always tell myself that i must get out of whatever im feeling towards him! This is nostalgic! I know.but i must write this, for this is what made me this. Back from my first semester in college, I thought. I’d be just fine as long as I’d carry on with my boyfriend. Even if i know that my mom doesn't like him, still, i insisted to be with him. Even if it’ll be a long distance relationship, still, i believed in myself that we can make it. 
                 
                  First day of classes, i knew a lot of strangers. They are nice and good, i thought. Proud of myself, i never thought of hunting any other boys. Too occupied by my boyfriend. Weeks passed, my girl friends asked me about the boys around us. Our classmates. I know they were just trying me. Well, to be nice. I just answer it with a smile. Then I have to tell my boyfriend about them. I tried to be used to it. But it made me so useless and stressed. I thought of deciding on my own. Do whatever i like. Hang out with my classmates and not just lock myself home while my boyfriend is out with his friends, (not even sure if he’s really with them, alone...) and so I did! I started hangin' out with my blockmates. I gave myself the right to text whoever i like, and talk to whoever i want to. It was fun. I found myself again. 

                Then that same week, i notice this guy noticing me. Glances. I knew i liked him from that. His expressive eyes. His funny look. His silence. I knew it. I like him. Before the semester ends, he asked for my number. I really didn’t know about him. Not even his real name. He texted me. I didn’t know it was him so what do you expect. I replied bitterly, and because I don’t know him even if he introduced himself , still. It didn’t bother me much. I wont ever know that it was the person i like until my friend told me about it. The hell. But that wasn’t much . It’s ok, it was just him. That time, i was so bothered about my boyfriend. I wanna end up our relationship. But still, I wasn’t that brave to do it. I don’t know why. Since the day the person I like texted me, I felt like being unfaithful for promising my boyfriend that i won't text any other guy besides him. But I thought, it wasn’t really a big deal, crush is just a crush, right?

               Sembreak is coming. Me and my crush or should i say “kuya”spent a lot of time texting each other. I knew about his life. All of his imperfections. All of his bad deeds. And his status, he is single. No girlfriend, that was he said. Then, there came sleepless nights. Sharing stuffs. Until the day that i have to go to our province for sembreak alone. I didn't know much about manila, good thing. Kuya was there, he accompanied me to the terminal with his friend. That was the very first move he did, that i thought. He really was just being nice. Funny thing that scared me, was when he texted me, checking if i was home, even dropped a call to check on me, while i was with my boyfriend. Whew! That was close. I just don’t want my ever suspicious boyfriend to think negative about it. It would be a long fight. Being with my boyfriend that moment made me think of what i just did. Wondering if i really did something unfaithful. But, kuya just dropped me at the terminal for my safety, right? I guess, my boyfriend should be thankful instead.

              I thought, what was left behind should be just where it is. But i was wrong,. Our conversations still continued. Kuya and I had a deal of having the same locker. My boyfriend didn’t know about it. We were happy when we were together. I left him that way. He never had any idea about me and kuya. He shouldn’t. Next term, kuya and I started to see each other. Talk in the corridors. Hang outs. Fun, that was. Then i felt, something like. ima happy that way, far from my boyfriend.

                A month after i left our province, i decided to break off whatever i left in there, and that is my relationship with my guy. We’re off. I was so guilty. He asked me why. I can’t answer him straight. It’s not exactly kuya, the guy ima getting to know, its not about having a third party. It never was. But how he treats me as a girl and how he possesses me as his property, not a girlfriend anymore. I thought, leaving him clueless and curiously would make him think more. I know it wasn’t good to see me going out with kuya. But i really didn’t think of anything about us. I thought, he really was just being nice to me. Until, he told me about a girl he liked. And that was me. Knowing myself for liking him too, i also confessed about it. I knew it. There’s something between us, starting to grow. Till i was dumbfound. I saw a girl from his account. His girlfriend. I asked him about it, but not that straight question i used to do. Calmly, he answered me with a yes. He is committed with a girl for one and a half year!!!!

                 Damn it. Tears fell. I got sick for a week. Also a week that i didn’t drop by to our locker. I assumed too much that he is nice. That he is not like any other guy i knew. But again, i was wrong. Then one day, he asked me of going to our friend’s birthday in their place, in cavite. It’s been two weeks. And i thought, i can make it. I can face him again and won’t even bother that he lied to me. I went out with them, it was an overnight. an all boy’s night out. Well, i was one of the boys. And i know, they respect me, i know im safe with them. im sure, coz birthday boy’s mom is watching us. Lol. They are all nice. We drank but not drunk. The session’s over. We have to rest. They are all sleepy. Same as to me. I laid down to our bed. No malice. I didn’t notice kuya was beside me. It didn’t bother. I was too sleepy for that. But honestly, i was really happy. Half asleep, i felt what he did. A sweet kiss i wont ever forget. Its a foul. I know. since that, everything changed. He spent more time with me. He visits me in our apartment. We even had our DQ moments , (Dairy Queen, located in trinoma) whenever we had free time. That was fun! 

             Being with the person you like is really a pleasure of a leisure time. From that DQ time, i was given the chance to meet his two childhood bestfriends, and also their friends. A hang out in trinoma, drank till drunken, except me. But from there, his friends asked about what we really are. Our status. His other friend even thought that WE ARE. that made a silent scream from my mind. its an OH-NO-PLEASE-DON’T-ASK. Kuya just gave his friends a blank face,. I saw that. He never answer a question like that. But his eyes answers it all. An even confused look, OR “don’t mind us look”. Whew. Then, back to businesses. 

            Before Christmas break, my friends planned of a house party at their house, it's like a Christmas party. That was dated the same day i was going to meet my high school friends and my best friend from Baguio. I asked kuya if he wanted to go. He accepted it. He had his friend with him (the same friend he was with, the day he dropped me by the terminal.) i was happy at a moment, that finally, my friends would know my special friend. That was late, it was 8pm, his friend went off for his girl and so he’s left with me and my friends and i also have to go to my friend’s house for the party. He insisted to go with me again, even just to make sure that I'm safe. And so, Ok. I accepted it. But i was surprised when he also came in to the FX. I asked him why, knowing that his way home is the other way, but he just looked at me. As usual. Then so, we’re there. So I, feeling ashamed for his being gentleman for accompanying me waiting for my friend to fetch me at school at that late night, then asked him to go with us instead, and join us. my friend didn’t like my idea but i insisted or else. (that’s actually another long story) Alright. Then the party started, i knew they’l be surprised for his being there. But he’s my guest and so they must bear with me. That night was awesome. Many things happened. A fight with a friend. a question and answer portion. And’A sweet moment. Bedtime. Again, he slept beside me. All of my friends saw it. They found it sweet, so sweet. But actually, it isn’t right. I , again. have sinned.

               It was past 1 in the afternoon, when we left my friend’s house. He was like, rushing and as if trying to catch up for something. Then we parted for home. The moment I came in to my room. He texted me if I was home. And so I said yes, and I grabbed it to ask him if he’s ok. He didn’t answer my question. Instead, he sent me his girl’s messages. I almost forget, right, he’s taken. I read the message. I almost cried. I felt so guilty. That day was supposedly the day they’l celebrate her birthday together. But he didn’t make it. And that’s because of me. I didn’t know. I was so sorry. From that, i asked him to go to her and ease her. She seemed so unwell. From her words that he stayed up late just to finish all her works before that day. Yet nothing happened and useless just because of me. Damn curse me my dear. I was so sorry.

               That made me decide to stop whatever we have. I cut off our communication. Good thing that was near holiday that i went home to our province for Christmas. But, still. He is bothering me. He gave me those sweet words. I know their relationship’s getting weak. But i must not be the reason. Till the Christmas eve, that they broke up. He asked me to accept him again. i almost fell into him, but many more things bothered me. I know it won’t work. So i pushed him back to his girl and told him that everything between them would be just fine. It would be just an overnight cry. Since that, i didn’t bother him anymore. I hid myself from him. I deleted his digits from m y phone, though i know i’d recognize his message... from then, back to school. I found a new me. I never expected of him anymore. Though we’re seeing each other everytime we put our things on our locker. It didn’t bother me that much. I know he is happy being single. And that made me ease, for he didn\t bother me too. In a way, i guess, i was wrong again. i knew it. They’re back together. And he confirmed me that. And that was it. I tried to be ok. I don’t wanna cry again for him. Until, our friend (the birthday boy) came to cheer me up. He never knew the things we had. (me and kuya). i never mention it to my friends. I hide it on my own. But he has an idea that there is something between us. yet, it didn’t bother him. That time, i was a sweet little girl who tries to ease my brotherly friends. I never thought that , that guy would take it seriously. I told him , i like him, then he confessed the same thing, not knowing that i was just kidding. Sorry, but i tend to be insane. I didn’t know what to say. But i just let it be. I thought, he might as well, help me forget kuya. Yes, we are more than that. But it seemed nothing. Kuya learned about it, when he knew it. It’s as if, he really was affected. He said he was. He told me how ill he was, when i told him that his friend was my new boyfriend. I don’t know what to think about him. But i didn’t care much about it. From that, he started to be cold and ask me about our friend, who was my boy that time.. questions like, do i really like him or i just used him to make him jealous. Knowing me, i have to deny it. But some part of it, that i wanted to make him jealous. And that’s what he thought. And so he told me to break him up or he will do it for me. He’ll tell our friend about it. That’s obviously a blackmail!! But it seemed affected me much like i never expected. That was difficult for me to do. Breaking up with a person isn’t that easy. Especially if he doesn’t deserve that pain. I know it was my mistake. Itsa game for me and a hell for him. But it made me think too, that he is too good for me. And soo i cut it off. We’re off. I am nobody’s girl. I made me used to it. I ignored their sweet words. I became numb. I guess. The next guy to please me would make a really long run. This is a bow to kuya. The guy who made me this. now, our friend and my ex is far from us. he was now taking his degree in’a different schoolin cebu. Kuya and his girlfriend are happy now. I guess. The photos says it all. BUT, still. He is bothering me. He makes me remember the pasts. Duh. That s a history for me now. And me? Ima enjoying my life now. I know im happy. I found new friends. I found a new someone. Maybe not as much as i liked kuya before. But i guess, it is much better than him. I hope.



take note:it's not a joke. LOL
December 1, 2007- December 1, 2008
Now Signing off. Done with you.

November 20, 2008

SHOOT ME ! BLOG YOU !

I came not to destroy any of you but to tell you a story about someone i knew. it is him you and her. he loves two girls that's what i heard. but he loves you more than the other... only when you are not around. he managed to be with HER and let you not think of any thing that would question him. do you remember the day supposedly for you and he didn't make it? he was with "her". he thought of being with her even if he knows you both have planned of something the next day. with all the efforts you made just to finnish your works for you not be bothered by this things for your day, he still didn't make it. a simple gift and sorry made you ease and you forgave him. yet, he didn't stop to see her. he still came in to her and they both had an understanding you never knew. weeks passed. "she" stopped him and said goodbye. everything came to an end without you knowing it ever happened. the holidays you almost end up was his plan and yet a simple sorry still gave you an ease. SHE tried to hide from him but still he's around. they'd be seeing each other soon without you knowing it. you are soo blinded by that love you are giving him. you have lots of reasons to be jealous but you just can't give evidences to push him.

I pity those who wait for nothing. i was there and i know everything. she does not know how much i know about them and you. try questioning things between the two of you. she is just around. he made it once. he could make all over again. i made this for what i did. i made this story not to cause fights but to make every girl realize that men are deceiving. they make lies. women dont deserve any fools. we live to love them. i just wonder why men are so misleading.

Right. I know. I just made it. Sorry, but I just can't help myself from typing. SHOOT ME BLOG!

September 22, 2008

MATA

Huwebes. Wala akong klase. Tapos na rin lahat ng Gawain. Nakakabagot. Nakakatamad. Ano bang dapat gawin, ng magkaroon ng kabuluhan ang aking araw? Maraming napasok sa aking isipan. Ngunit isa lang ang tanging natipuhan. Tumambay sa Jamaican at kumain ng paboritoi kong Jamaican dish. Sabay nito ang pagpakasasa ko sa malamig na malamig na mango smoothie nila habang ako ay nag-iiskets ng sinumang maharap sa aking kinauupuan. Tama! Yan nga ang aking bisyo tuwing ako’y nag-iisa at walang magawa.
Para sa akin, bilang isang estudyante ng “fine arts”, hangad kong lumawak ang aking ka-alaman at pagbutihin pa ang aking talento.
Hindi para makilala ng buong mundo kundi, para magkaroon ng sarili kong pangalan na aking maipagmamalaki sa aking sarili.

Akin talagang Gawain ang tumambay mag-isa tuwing walang Gawain. Ang sabi ng iba, nakakatakot yun. Walang kasama. Walang ka-kulitan. Walang karamay sa mga kalokohan. Pero hindi yun ang aking naisip. Sa tingin ko ay mga taong takot mapag-sabihan na “iba”(others) ang nagsasabi lang noon. Takot silang may masabi ang ibang tao sa kanila. Gusto nila maging naka-tataas. Magakaroon ng maraming kasama. Ang akala kasi nila, sisikat sila sa ganoong paraan. Maraming kasama, sikat. Pero mali. Masa maganda ata kung maraming “kaibigan” at hindi lang “kasama”.

Marami ngmga pangyayari sa aking buhay bago pa man ako na-lagi sa Jamaican. Bawat araw ay oridnaryo. Walang espesyal. Walang pagbabago. Ngunit ang araw na ito, iba. Kanina pa siya di mapakali. Ang mga mata’y may nais ipahiwatig. Parang may gusto. At di nga naglaon ay nilapitan ako. Steady lang. walang ramdam. Ano naman kung siya ay lumapit. Hinintay ko nalang ang sunod niyang gagawin. Nagsimulang bumukas ang kanyang bibig at aking narinig ang malalim at lalaking lalaking boses niya. Paano raw ba pumunta sa city circle? Sa kaloob-looban ko, gusto kong tumawa. Sinong mag-aakalang sa itsura niyang iyon ay hindi niya pa alam ang mga lugar sa maynila…
Akin pa ring sinagot ang kanyang katanungan kahit alam kong di talaga yun ang kanyang sadya. Doon, nagsimula ang nais ipahiwatig ng kanyang mga mata.

Nagpatuloy an gaming pagkikita kahit di ito sadya. Walang usapan na kami’y magkikita, ngunit sadya lang talagang pareho kami ng libangan at tambayan. Doon at doon parin, parehong oras. Parehong araw. Pero sino nga ba siya? Isang lalaking di ma-wari ang nasa isip. Aking kakanyahan ang bumasa ng nasa isip ng isang tao, pero bakit sa kanya ay walng ubra? Ano ba talagang nais iparating ng mga malalalim niyang mata? Ang kanyang manipis na balbas at makakapal na kilay, nagsasabi bang may mga bagay na kanyang ikinatatago tago at di masabi sa iba? Parang may kinikimkim na malagim na nakaraan. At ang kanyang itim na “jacket”. Nakapanlalamig ba ang lihim na kanyang itinatago? Ang pormang pang-kanto na di halata dahil sa putla ng kanyang mukha at salaming itinatago ang para bang di natutulog na mga mata. Sino nga ba siya? anong maibabahagi niya sa buhay ko?

Hindi nagtagal ay lumalim ang aming mga usapin. Sa ika-limang beses at araw n gaming pag-uusap, nalaman ko ang saklap at pait ng kanyang buhay. Hindi naging mabait sa kanya ang buhay. Mapait. Kasuklam suklam. Sinong matutuwa at magpapasalamat sa buhay na lahat ng taong pinahalagahan ay sila ring kukunin sa kanya? Iniwan siya ng kanyang magulang ng malamang siya ay nakapatay. Namatayan siya ng nobya. Nawala rin lahat ng mga akala niya ay mga tunay na kaibigan. Sa ngayon, mag-isa na lamang siya. nagta-trabaho. Palipat-lipat. Para bang naglalakabay na lamang at inaantay ang kanyang oras.
Doon rin lang kami nagpakilala ng pormal sa isa’t isa.naisip ko pa nga kung akin bang paniniwalaan ang mga sinabi niya. Pero ba’t hindi? Kung masama ang intension niya ay sana matagal na niyang ginawa.

Sa mag oras na iyon, napansin ko ang pamumutla ng kanyang mukha. Ayokong magtanong. Ayokong matrinig ang sagot. Ilang oras na lamang at mag-gagabi na. tumayo siya at daling hinila ako palabas. Kailangan na raw naming umuwi. Ihahatid na raw niya ako. Humndi ako. At din a rin siya nagpumilit. Pero, siniguro niyang makasakay muna ako bago siya tuluyang nawala sa aking paningin. Di man lang ako nakapag-pasalamat. Bigla nalang siyang nawala. Pero naiwan sa aking mga ang lamig ng kanya. Ang kanyang mga hawak. Malamig. Mahigpit. Ang kanyang mga titig, nakakapang-hina. Para bang lahat ng aking saya ay hingop na niya. Sa aking paglalakad palapit sa aming pintuan, biglang nasa isip ko ang mga salita niya bago bitawan ang aking mga kamay. Isang tinig na di ko pa narinig kailanman. Isang titig na siya at siya lang ang nagpakita sa akin. Pati mga simpleng salita na talagang nag’iwan sa akin ng pangamba…
“bata… ingat.. ka....”

September 18, 2008

MCDOnalds' super size me


"Super Size Me"
            The documentary got it all for us, especially the youth. It showed what would happen to a person who'd have super size meals from McDonalds, three times a day for 30 days. That was really a "wow". What Spurlock did was really devastating. Horrifying. For Asians like us, we still try to fit in with our daily diet, but for Americans, there's this thing that really can't resist themselves from these fast food chains, which, i really wonder about. is this really by their nature or the plain American culture?


             Can one just imagine himself, living his life with just burgers and fries, burgers and fries, burgers and fries, burgers and fries, and burgers and fries to the nth time. I may say, it is acceptable if one makes it for it's all he has to do. He's got no choice but to eat on a fast food to save time. But i don't think it would be excusable to say, it's already their way of living. It is not to save time ALWAYS and almost everyday that you have to drive-thru McDonalds to take out a burger with you for breakfast..... lunch.... dinner.. and'a snacks! that really is a BIG NO NO.


             Eating on fast food chains, may be an addiction that once you put yourself on it, you'll often go on to eat it in increasing quantities for the rest of your life. We all know that obesity is epidemic that parents should be alarmed about. That as much as possible, not to spoil their children with this hamburgers and fries. Sometimes, advertisements are really powerful about this but actually are so wrong. But what can we do about it, it is business.


            This documentary movie gave us this cautionary insight on how fast food chains come to dominate and serve us like deprived. This is already giving us a caution. And think twice about our diet. It's not bad to indulge yourself from these American foods, but it will be when you start your day with these meals, everyday. Make up with this, it's a suicide.

August 04, 2008

Wika Ko, Wikang Filipino,Wika ng Mundo, Mahalaga

Lahat ng bansa ay may sariling wika, Pambansang wika nga kung ating tawagin. “Ang wika ay mahalaga para sa lahat”, sino naman ang hindi aayon, kung ito lang naman ang tumataguyod sa pang-araw-araw nating pamumuhay. Ito ang siyang katulong natin sa ating mga pan-araw-araw na Gawain. Malalaman bang isang Pilipino ang isang tao ng di mo kinakausap? Maaari, ngunit mas masasabing Pilipino siya kung siya ay walang takot magsalita ng sarili niyang wika. Hindi ba’t salita ang pinakamakapangyarihang elemento ng wika? Isipin nalang na wala tayong ginagamit na lengwaheng maiintindihan natin saan man sa Pilipinas tayo magpunta. Magkaka-intindihan kaya tayo? Malalaman mo ba ang mga nais iparating ng mga taga davao kung ikaw ang isang laking-Maynila? Kaya nga ba ganoon na lang ang kahalagahan ng pagkakaroon ng ating wikang pambansa. Dahil dito ay magkakaroon ng kaisahan at pagkaka-intindihan ang bawat Pilipino saan man sa pilipinas.


Ang dating presidenteng Manuel Luis Quezon, ang tinaguriang “Ama ng Wika”, ang siyang nagpatupad ng “batas komonwelt” na naghahangad ng pagkakaroon ng sarili nating wikang pambansa. Ito ay ibinase sa mga dominanteng diyalekto sa pilipinas. At sa pangangalap ng ating wikang pambansa, tagalong ang ginawang basehan, dahil ito ay nagtataglay na ng nalinang nang panitikan at wikang sinasalita ng nakahihigit ng mga Pilipino. At doon, ay nagsimula na ang iba pang kautusan ukol sa pagsasatupad ng sarili nating wikang pambansa hanggang sa noong Agosto 25, 1988, Ang Kautusang Tagapagpaganap Blg. 335 ay ipinalabas at nilagdaan ni Pangulong Corazon Aquino na nagsasabi ng paglikha ng Komisyong Pangwika na siyang magpapatuloy ng pag-aaral ng Filipino. pinagtibay din ang paggamit ng Filipino bilang midyum ng pagtuturo sa mga paaralan sa mga piling asignatura. At doon nagsimula ang pagkakaisa ng bawat Pilipino batay sa komunikasyon. Simpleng mensahe na nais maiparating ay maaari ng maintindihan at ng may kaayusan. Kahit saan pa, kahit ano pa, ay nagkakaroon na ng pagkaka-intindihan. Nalinang ang mga kinatatago tagong kaalaman ng mga Pilipino ukol sa pakikipagtalastasan. Nalinang din ang iba’t ibang panitikan na siyang nagbunga ng unibersal na pagkilala sa mga Pilipino bilang Pilipino. Lahat ng ito ay utang nating mga Pilipino sa yumao nating presidente, Manuel L. Quezon.


Filipino, ito ang ating wikang pamabansa. Ito ang nagkakaisa sa ating mga Pilipino mapa-Pilipinas man o ibang bansa. Ito ang tulay nating mga Pilipino sa pagkakaintindihan mapa-igorot man o manilenyo. Iba iba man ang kultura ay napag-iisa parin ng sarili nating wika. Mapunta man sa ibang bansa ay di pa rin ma-aalis ang salitang siyang nagbibigay sa atin ng kapangyarihang mangibabaw at maglaganap ng mensaheng nais ilaganap. Sa dami nga naman ng mga pilipinong nangingibang bansa ay masasabi ng unibersal na rin ang ating wikang Filipino. Hindi na nga ba nakapagtataka na kung sa isang araw ay may mga iba pang lugar sa labas ng pilipinas na siyang lungga na rin ng mga Pilipino. Sa pagkakaroon natin ng wikang pambansa ay naipapasa natin ito at napapanatili sa ating kultura mula sa ating mga kanunununuan hanggang sa mga susunod pang mga henerasyon. Huwag nating isipin na ingles lamang ang nagbubuklod sa mga tao sa buong mundo. Mayroon tayng sariling atin na siya ring nagbubuklod sa ating mga Pilipino sa loob man o labas ng pilipinas. Dahil rin ditto ay nakilala ang mga Pilipino sa kanilang malikhaing pag-iisip ukol sa malawak na mundo ng panitikan. Kaya nga ba ganoon na lamang kahalaga ang pagkakaroon natin ng wikang pambansa natin. Dahil ito lamang ang siyang elemento na lahat ng pilipno ay umaayon at nagkaka-isa. Ito ang aking wika, wikang pambansa. Mabuhay!




=my essay to filipino2.
whew. nosebleeedd!
=D

June 26, 2008

Love Fallacy

             I am a not-so-ordinary-college-student. And I know that as time goes by, I'll be encountering deceiving problems. Not of one girl waiting for things be settled on their own. mumbling, just in one corner then sigh. It's not so me. Yet it is not enough to know how to reason correctly. It is, actually, necessary to be able to spot poor reasoning, and, more importantly, to understand it. yes, indeed. I am fond of spotting one's mistake. Not really to make fun of it but to correct it. And, that's annoying for them. Yet, I care less about that. It's my way of socializing.
 I'd just like to share this story, i really fell in love with. It was actually in paired with my life.. - a tragic comedy. Please read carefully. Enjoy Reading! 

Title: Fallacy

Cool was I and logical. Keen, calculating, perspicacious, acute and astute-I was all of these. My brain was as powerful as a dynamo, as precise as a chemist's scales, as penetrating as a scalpel. And - think of it! - I was only eighteen.

It is not often that one so young has such a giant intellect. Take for example, Petey Butch, my roommate at the University of Minnesota. Same age, same background, but dumb as an ox. A nice enough fellow, you understand, but nothing upstairs. Emotional type. Unstable. Impressionable. Worst of all, a faddist. Fads, I submit, are the very negation of reason. To be swept up in every new craze that comes along, to surrender yourself to idiocy just because everybody else is doing it-this, to me, is the acme of mindlessness. Not, however, to Petey.

One afternoon I found Petey lying on his bed with an expression of such distress on his face that I immediately diagnosed appendicitis. "Don't move." I said. "Don't take a laxative. I'll get a doctor."

"Raccoon," he mumbled thickly.

"Raccoon?" I said, pausing in my flight.

"I want a raccoon coat," he wailed.

I perceived that his trouble was not physical, but mental. "Why do you want a raccoon coat?"

"I should have known it," he cried, pounding his temples. "I should have known they'd come back when the Charleston came back. Like a fool I spent all my money for textbooks, and now I can't get a raccoon coat."

"Can you mean," I said incredulously, "that people are actually wearing raccoon coats again?"

"All the Big Men on Campus are wearing them. Where have you been?"

"In the library," I said, naming a place not frequented by Big Men on Campus.

He leaped from the bed and paced the room. "I've got to have a raccoon coat," he said passionately. "I've got to!"

"Petey, why? Look at it rationally. Raccoon coats are unsanitary. They shed. They smell bad. They weigh too much. They're unsightly. They-"

"You don't understand," he interrupted impatiently. "It's the thing to do. Don't you want to be in the swim?"

"No," I said truthfully.

"Well, I do," he declared. "I'd give anything for a raccoon coat. Anything!"

My brain, that precision instrument, slipped into high gear. "Anything?" I asked, looking at him narrowly.

"Anything," he affirmed in ringing tones.

I stroked my chin thoughtfully. It so happened that I knew where to get my hands on a raccoon coat. My father had had one in his undergraduate days; it lay now in a trunk in the attic back home. It also happened that Petey had something I wanted. He didn't have it exactly, but at least he had first rights on it. I refer to his girl. Polly Espy.

I had long coveted Polly Espy. Let me emphasize that my desire for this young woman was not emotional in nature. She was, to be sure, a girl who excited the emotions, but I was not one to let my heart rule my head. I wanted Polly for a shrewdly calculated, entirely cerebral reason.

I was a freshman in law school. In a few years I would be out in practice. I was well aware of the importance of the right kind of wife in furthering a lawyer's career. The successful lawyers I had observed were, almost without exception, married to beautiful, gracious, intelligent women. With one omission, Polly fitted these specifications perfectly.

Beautiful she was. She was not yet of pin-up proportions, but I felt sure that time would supply the lack. She already had the makings.

Gracious she was. By gracious I mean full of graces. She had an erectness of carriage, an ease of bearing, a poise that clearly indicated the best of breeding. At table her manners were exquisite. I had seen her at the Kozy Kampus Korner eating the specialty of the house - a sandwich that contained scraps of pot roast, gravy chopped nuts, and a dipper of sauerkraut - without even getting her fingers moist.

Intelligent she was not. In fact, she veered in the opposite direction. But I believed that under my guidance she would smarten up. At any rate, it was worth a try. It is, after all, easier to make a beautiful dumb girl smart than to make an ugly smart girl beautiful.

"Petey," I said, "are you in love with Polly Espy?"

"I think she's a keen kid," he replied, "but I don't know if you'd call it love. Why?"

"Do you," I asked, "have any kind of formal arrangement with her? I mean are you going steady or anything like that?"

"No. We see each other quite a bit, but we both have other dates. Why?"

"Is there," I asked, "any other man for whom she has a particular fondness?"

"Not that I know of. Why?"

I nodded with satisfaction. "In other words, if you were out of the picture, the field would be open. Is that right?"

"I guess so. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing, nothing," I said innocently, and took my suitcase out of the closet.

"Where are you going?" asked Petey.

"Home for the weekend." I threw a few things into the bag.

"Listen," he said, clutching my arm eagerly. "While you're home, you couldn't get some money from your old man, could you, and lend it to me so I can buy a raccoon coat?"

"I may do better than that," I said with a mysterious wink and closed my bag and left.

"Look," I said to Petey when I got back Monday morning. I threw open the suitcase and revealed the huge, hairy, gamy object that my father had worn in his Stutz Bearcat in 1925.

[The Stutz Bearcat was an expensive sports car, very popular in the 1920s.]

"Holy Toledo!" said Petey reverently. He plunged his hands into the raccoon coat and then his face. "Holy Toledo," he repeated fifteen or twenty times.

"Would you like it?" I asked.

"Oh yes!" he cried, clutching the greasy pelt to him. Then a canny look came into his eyes. "What do you want for it?"

"Your girl," I said, mincing no words.

"Polly?" he said in a horrified whisper. "You want Polly?"

"That's right."

He flung the coat from him. "Never," he said stoutly.

I shrugged. "Okay. If you don't want to be in the swim, I guess it's your business."

I sat down in a chair and pretended to read a book, but out of the corner of my eye I kept watching Petey. He was a torn man. First he looked at the coat with the expression of a waif at a baker's window. Then he turned away and set his jaw resolutely. Then he looked back at the coat, with even more longing in his face. Then he turned away, but with not so much resolution this time. Back and forth his head swiveled, desire waxing, resolution waning. Finally he didn't turn away at all; he just stood and stared with mad lust at the coat.

"It isn't as though I was in love with Polly," he said thickly. "Or going steady or anything like that."

"That's right," I murmured.

"What's Polly to me, or me to Polly?"

"Not a thing," said I.

"It's just been a causal kick-just a few laughs, that's all."

"Try on the coat," said I.

He complied. The coat bunched high over his ears and dropped all the way down to his shoe tops. He looked like a mound of dead raccoons. "Fits fine," he said happily.

I rose from my chair. "Is it a deal?" I asked, extending my hand. He swallowed. "It's a deal," he said and shook my hand.

I had my first date with Polly the following evening. This was in the nature of a survey; I wanted to find out just how much work I had to do to get her mind up to the standard I required. I took her first to dinner. "Gee, that was a delish dinner," she said as we left the restaurant. Then I took her to a movie. "Gee, that was a marvy movie," she said as we left the theater. And then I took her home. "Gee, I had a sensaysh time," she said as she bade me good night.

I went back to my room with a heavy heart. I had gravely underestimated the size of my task. This girl's lack of information was terrifying. Nor would it be enough merely to supply her with information. First she had to be taught to think. This loomed as a project of no small dimensions, and at first I was tempted to give her back to Petey. But then I got to thinking about her abundant physical charms and about the way she entered a room and the way she handled a knife and fork, and I decided to make an effort.

I went about it, as in all things, systematically. I gave her a course in logic. It happened that I, as a law student, was taking a course in logic myself, so I had all the facts at my finger tips. "Polly," I said to her when I picked her up on the next date, "tonight we are going over to the knoll and talk."

"Oo, terrif," she replied. One thing I will say for this girl: you would go far to find another so agreeable.

We went to the Knoll, the campus trysting place, and we sat down under an old oak, and she looked at me expectantly. "What are we going to talk about?" she asked.

"Logic."

She thought this over for a minute and decided she liked it. "Magnif," she said.

"Logic," I said, clearing my throat, "is the science of thinking. Before we can think correctly, we must first learn to recognize the common fallacies of logic. These we will take up tonight."

"Wow-dow!" she cried, clapping her hands delightedly.

I winced, but went bravely on. "First let us examine the fallacy called Dicto Simpliciter."

"By all means," she urged, batting her lashes eagerly.

"Dicto Simpliciter means an argument based on an unqualified generalization. For example: Exercise is good. Therefore everybody should exercise."

" I agree" said Polly earnestly. "I mean exercise is wonderful. I mean it builds the body and everything."

"Polly," I said gently, "the argument is a fallacy. Exercise is good is an unqualified generalization. For instance, if you have heart disease, exercise is bad, not good. Many people are ordered by their doctors not to exercise. You must qualify the generalization. You must say exercise is usually good, or exercise is good for most people. Otherwise you have committed a Dicto Simpliciter. Do you see?"

"No." she confessed. "But this is marvy. Do more! Do more!"

"It will be better if you stop tugging at my sleeve," I told her, and when she desisted, I continued. "Next we take up a fallacy called Hasty Generalization. Listen carefully: You can't speak French. I can't speak French. Petey Burch can't speak French. I must therefore conclude that nobody at the University of Minnesota can speak French."

"Really?" said Polly, amazed. "Nobody?"

I hid my exasperation. "Polly, it's a fallacy. The generalization is reached too hastily. There are too few instances to support such a conclusion."

"Know any more fallacies?" she asked breathlessly. "This is more fun than dancing even."

I fought off a wave of despair. I was getting nowhere with this girl, absolutely nowhere. Still, I am nothing if not persistent. I continued. "Next comes post Hoc. Listen to this: Let's not take Bill on our picnic. Every time we take him out with us, it rains."

"I know somebody just like that," she exclaimed. "A girl back home - Eula Becker, her name is. It never fails. Every single time we take her on a picnic-."

"Polly," I said sharply, "It's a fallacy. Eula Becker doesn't cause the rain. She has no connection with the rain. You are guilty of Post Hoc if you blame Eula Becker."

"I'll never do it again," she promised contritely. "Are you mad at me?"

I sighed deeply. "No , Polly, I'm not mad."

"Then tell me some more fallacies."

"All right. Let's try Contradictory Premises."

"Yes, let's," she chirped, blinking her eyes happily.

I frowned, but plunged ahead. "Here's an example of Contradictory Premises: If God can do anything, can he make a stone so heavy that He won't be able to lift it?"

"Of course," she replied promptly.

"But if He can do anything, he can lift the stone," I pointed out.

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Well, then I guess He can't make the stone."

"But He can do anything." I reminded her.

She scratched her pretty, empty head. "I'm all confused," she admitted.

"Of course you are. Because when the premises of an argument contradict each other, there can be no argument. If there is an irresistible force, there can be no immovable object. If there is an immovable object, there can be no irresistible force. Get it?"

"Tell me some more of this keen stuff," she said eagerly.

I consulted my watch. "I think we'd better call it a night. I'll take you home now, and you go over all the things you've learned. We'll have another session tomorrow night."

I deposited her at the girls' dormitory, where she assured me that she had had a perfectly terrif evening, and I went glumly home to my room. Petey lay snoring in his bed, the raccoon coat huddled like a great hairy beast at his feet. For a moment I considered waking him and telling him that he could have his girl back. It seemed clear that my project was doomed to failure. The girl simply had a logic-proof head.

But the I reconsidered. I had wasted one evening: I might as well waste another. Who knew? Maybe somewhere in the extinct crater of her mind, a few embers still smoldered. Maybe somehow I could fan them into flame. Admittedly it was not a prospect fraught with hope, but I decided to give it one more try.

Seated under the oak the next evening I said, "Our first fallacy tonight is called Ad Misericordiam."

She quivered with delight.

"Listen closely," I said. "A man applies for a job. When the boss asks him what his qualifications are, he replies that he has a wife and six children at home, the wife is a helpless cripple, the children have nothing to eat, no clothes to wear, no shoes on their feet, there are no beds in the house, no coal in the cellar, and winter is coming."

A tear rolled down each of Polly's pink cheeks. "Oh, this is awful, awful," she sobbed.

"Yes, it's awful," I agreed, "but it's no argument. The man never answered the boss's question about his qualifications. Instead he appealed to the boss's sympathy. He committed the fallacy of Ad Misericordiam. Do you understand?"

"Have you got a handkerchief?" she blubbered.

I handed her a handkerchief and tried to keep from screaming while she wiped her eyes. "Next," I said in a carefully controlled tone, "we will discuss False Analogy. Here is an example: Students should be allowed to look at their textbooks during examinations. After all, surgeons have X-rays to guide them during an operation, lawyers have briefs to guide them during a trial, carpenters have no blueprints to guide them when they are building a house. Why, then, shouldn't students be allowed to look at their textbooks during an examination?"

"There now," she said enthusiastically, "is the most marvy idea I've heard in years."

"Polly," I said testily, "the argument is all wrong. Doctors, lawyers, and carpenters aren't taking a test to see how much they have learned, but students are. The situations are altogether different, and you can't make an analogy between them."

"I still think it's a good idea," said Polly.

"Nuts," I muttered. Doggedly I pressed on. "Next we'll try Hypothesis Contrary to Fact."

"Sounds yummy," was Polly's reaction. "Listen: If Madame Curie had not happened to leave a photographic plate in a drawer with a chunk of pitchblende, the world today would not know about radium."

"True, true," said Polly, nodding her head. "Did you see the movie? Oh, it just knocked me out. That Walter Pidgeon is so dreamy. I mean he fractures me."

"If you can forget Mr. Pidgeon for a moment," I said coldly. "I would like to point out that the statement is a fallacy. Maybe Madame Curie would have discovered radium at some later date. Maybe somebody else would have discovered it. Maybe any number of things would have happened. You can't start with a hypothesis that is not true and then draw any supportable conclusions from it."

"They ought to put Walter Pidgeon in more pictures," said Polly. "I hardly ever see him any more."

One more chance, I decided. But just one more. There is a limit to what flesh and blood can bear. "The next fallacy is called Poisoning the Well."

"How cute!" she gurgled.

"Two men are having a debate. The first one gets up and says, 'My opponent is a notorious liar. You can't believe a word that he is going to say' . . . Now, Polly, think. Think hard. What's wrong?"

I watched her closely as she knit her creamy brow in concentration. Suddenly a glimmer of intelligence - the first I had seen - came into her eyes. "It's not fair," she said with indignation. "It's not a bit fair. What chance has the second man got if the first man calls him a liar before he even begins talking?"

"Right!" I cried exultantly. "One hundred percent right. It's not fair. The first man has poisoned the well before anybody could drink from it. He has hamstrung his opponent before he could even start . . . . Polly I'm proud of you."

"Pshaw," she murmured, blushing with pleasure.

"You see, my dear, these things aren't so hard. All you have to do is concentrate. Think - - examine - - evaluate. Come now, let's review everything we have learned."

"Fire away," she said with an airy wave of her hand.

Heartened by the knowledge that Polly was not altogether a cretin, I began a long, patient review of all I had told her. Over and over and over again I cited instances, pointed out flaws, kept hammering away without let up. It was like digging a tunnel. At first everything was work, sweat, and darkness. I had no idea when I would reach the light, or even if I would. But I persisted. I pounded and clawed and scraped, and finally I was rewarded. I saw a chink of light. And then the chink got bigger and the sun came pouring in and all was bright.

Five grueling nights this took, but it was worth it. I had made a logician out of Polly; I had taught her to think. My job was done. She was worthy of me at last. She was a fit wife for me, a proper hostess for my many mansions, a suitable mother for my well-heeled children.

It must not be thought that I was without love for this girl. Quite the contrary. Just as Pygmalion loved the perfect woman he had fashioned, so I loved mine. I determined to acquaint her with my feelings at our very next meeting. The time had come to change our relationship from academic to romantic.

"Polly," I said when next we sat beneath our oak, "tonight we will not discuss fallacies."

"Aw, gee," she said, disappointed.

"My dear," I said, favoring her with a smile, "we have now spent five evenings together. We have gotten along splendidly. It is clear that we are well matched."

"Hasty Generalization," said Polly brightly.

"I beg your pardon," said I.

"Hasty Generalization," she repeated. "How can you say that we are well matched on the basis of only five dates?"

I chuckled with amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons well. "My dear," I said, patting her hand in a tolerant manner, "five dates is plenty. After all, you don't have to eat a whole cake to know that it's good."

"False Analogy," said Polly promptly. "I'm not a cake. I'm a girl."

I chuckled with somewhat less amusement. The dear child had learned her lessons perhaps too well. I decided to change tactics. Obviously the best approach was a simple, strong, direct declaration of love. I paused for a moment while my massive brain chose the proper words. Then I began:

"Polly, I love you. You are the whole world to me, and the moon, and the stars and the constellations of outer space. Please, my darling, say that you will go steady with me, for if you will not, life will be meaningless. I will languish. I will refuse my meals. I will wander the face of the earth, a shambling, hollow-eyed hulk."

There, I thought, folding my arms, that ought to do it.

"Ad Misericordiam," said Polly.

I ground my teeth. I was not Pygmalion; I was Frankenstein, and my monster had me by the throat. Frantically I fought back the tide of panic surging through me. At all costs I had to keep cool.

"Well, Polly," I said, forcing a smile, "you certainly have learned your fallacies."

"You're darn right," she said with a vigorous nod.

"And who taught them to you, Polly?"

"You did."

"That's right. So you do owe me something, don't you, my dear? If I hadn't come along you never would have learned about fallacies."

"Hypothesis Contrary to Fact," she said instantly.

I dashed perspiration from my brow. "Polly," I croaked, "you mustn't take all these things so literally. I mean this is just classroom stuff. You know that things you learn in school don't have anything to do with life."

"Dicto Simpliciter," she said, wagging her finger at me playfully. That did it. I leaped to my feet, bellowing like a bull. "Will you or will you not go steady with me?"

"I will not," she replied.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Because this afternoon I promised Petey Burch that I would go steady with him."

I reeled back, overcome with the infamy of it. After he promised, after he made a deal, after he shook my hand! "The rat!" I shrieked, kicking up great chunks of turf. "You can't go with him, Polly. He's a liar. He's a cheat. He's a rat."

"Poisoning the Well" said Polly, "and stop shouting. I think shouting must be a fallacy too."

With an immense effort of will, I modulated my voice. "All right," I said. "You're a logician. Let's look at this thing logically. How could you choose Petey Burch over me? Look at me - - a brilliant student, a tremendous intellectual, a man with an assured future. Look at Pete -- a knothead, a jitterbug, a guy who'll never know where his next meal is coming from. Can you give me one logical reason why you should go steady with Petey Burch?"

"I certainly can," declared Polly. "He's got a raccoon coat."

THE END

June 23, 2008

Analysis to Sociological Imagination

        Basically, we all have this sociological imagination. we just have to develop it. it is like a disease that grows graver as it is just ignored within you. much like of a fungi ,once affected your skin it will invade it.. like of our brain, we just keep thinking... wondering.. that we, ourselves are unaware of. until one day, when time allow us to wander, that's the time the ideas stuck in it explodes. same as through with what mills wants us to think about,we are about to recognize our tasks. that we are about to grasp history and biography and the relation between the two within society, which is the sociological imagination's task and promise. by this means, men and women are the subject of this game called life. they actually play the big role as what they should be, as how they should act, and to how they should cope up with their own troubles and issues.

         This sociological imagination has something to do with man's concept of issues and troubles within them, concerning the society. it is like having the trouble of the unemployed. then why is that? having most of the population employed just leaving 5% of it unemployed, then would that make them so incompetent? but would it be more intriguing, that from a population of more or less 80 million, only 40% of it were employed?! would that be an astonishing issue that the state should be pondering of? or maybe, a lot has just not fathom yet, what really he/she is into. isn't that so geek, that with the knowledge they believe is just so extensive and in their own opinion: the fact they believe they can never know. maybe then, this depends on how one view the outside world and how they develop their own personality.


"accordingly, to understand the changes of many personal milieu,we are required to look beyond them." same as through, and of the same quotation a teacher have taught me. One shouldn't be stuck to one point. We have to o beyond, go deeper and find some more issue a or subjects that would strongly help us about our own problems.

              One's sensitivity is a big NO in this life. We have to be aware, that as of what mills have said “ to be aware of the idea of social structure and to use it with sensibility is to be capable of tracing such linkages among a great variety of milieu..”

           From “the role of ideology in the great transition”, Kenneth Boulding stated that the dynamics of society are governed by two sets of circumstances which the sociologist Robert Merton has called “latent” and “ manifest”. The latent forces are those that which the awareness lays an unimportant role. The manifest processes those in which the awareness of the process itself- that is, the image of the nature of society and the social processes in the minds of men – plays a significant rule in determining the behavior of men and the course of social events. Figuratively speaking, man himself then , is really unaware, most of his life. Then, when troubles stuck him, he is forced to think. Their, he develops the so called sociological imagination.

              In biological evolution, almost the whole process is latent because the participants are not themselves aware of what is going on. Into man's social system, awareness has entered from the first. The bottom line is we have to accept that what we actually have as private troubles are actually the unit of a larger public issue. Curing it is just like getting rid of the pests that will just keep coming back. The promise then, is that with all the problems and issues in our modern life, sociological imagination can help us understand the happenings in our modern life and why such social phenomena occur. This is a classic and got that something worth recommending.

May 06, 2008

Better this way

There are things in this world that can never be ours.

Just because of the simple truths.
Yes, simple and this word is the reason why 
things are getting so unusual and complicated.
It's "why do this things have to exist anyway?

-it's simply, some things are bad for us.
-they already belong to someone else..
-we already lost the opportunity, to claim them as our own.
-they are just not meant to be ours.
so if you're caught up with wanting something you dearly cant have...

remember..
we may trade in all our cards for what we want..
but in the end,maybe you'll find it.
.... it's not something you really need.

darn right and this is always the problem with me.
i easily involve myself to things am actually not sure of.
i always go with the flow...
i know all the consequences... but, it's like the urge of
having something i really like, and not getting it... 
makes me sick!
i lose control with things like that. but lately,
a friend whom i've hurt once...
gave me a smile and said...
"...buti may control kna."
we've been to a conflict when i ...
i... i... hmmmmm. never mind.
(let's not bring the past back anymore.
 maybe wondering if why did she say that.
Actually. we were talking about the guy i was so in love...
(when i was in manila...)
great love story but tragic and hair-raising! 
surely you'll hate me for that.. oops! but more with the guy... 
and much with his girl for being so stupid and numb.
yet, what kind of girl am i for hating that innocent girl for 
loving that bastard. and the blame is on me.
for caring so much about him. and letting him
go beyond my boundaries.
yes. guilty about that. and so, i stopped it.
before i get used to it and destroy another relationship.
no matter what he say about how he loves me.
i chose to be deaf. and blind from his actions.
and. thank GOD! after a month.
the old me is back! but for the better now.
i can now control myself and make better decisions regarding boys.