> whaT’s the trutH?

I was watching the late night news when one of the old stories they flashed was when our soldiers had an encounter with the rebels down south. I’ve always been fascinated of hearing stories like these. I don’t really know why. Maybe because my Dad was once a victim of NPA kidnappings. I don’t know, I really don’t know.

It’s quite often we get to hear news reports of encounters between AFP forces and NPA or MILF rebels, or Abu Sayyaf terrorists. Most of the time, there’s the body count of how many soldiers are killed and/or wounded. The military always claim that the other side also had casualties. Usually, more than what the government suffered. Or so they say.

But as is often the case, no bodies are shown to the press, to prove their claims. Their almost-automatic excuse is that the rebels or bandits were seen to have dragged the bodies of their fallen comrades.

I just find that hard to believe.

If I were a rebel. And I know that forces are coming after me, chasing me. Would I take the time to carry the body of a dead brother-in-arms? All that weight slowing me down; and exposing me to greater risk of capture, or even death? Where is the logic in that?

Or is the military just embarassed to admit that while they suffered some casualties, there is actually no proof that they inflicted similar injuries against their opponents?

To vent their anger, the turn against the civilian populace — the villagers. They accuse these people of supporting and harboring the rebels. Then, they resort to intimidation, harassment, and even murder.

It’s sad.

Such intricate web of lies to mask an ugly truth.

Now I’m wondering, ano ang totoo sa Glorietta 2 tragedy?

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> waKing up anD beinG in Love

I woke up this evening to the sound of Briney Spear’s “Gimme More.”

Turning over, I let my left hand reach out for my mobile.

My phone’s waking my senses like crazy. I usually set it on a 7:30pm alarm because my work starts around 9pm. It’s become a habit of late out of fear of not being able to wake up early.

I can’t have that right now, of course. Not when for the next couple of weeks, I’ll be on a training mode at work. During this times, I will have to contend with rising up to meet the moon god that’s come to fetch and bring me to terms with a path I was very reluctant to take in the first place.

Talk about talking about irony in a most inappropriate setting.

My fingers gently graze across the sheets, clawing at every possible obstacle it would come upon. Each one turning out to be every printed training mateials I could have possibly slept with, except for the phone I’m trying to find.

A highlighter which, fortunately for me this time, I remembered to put the cap on before dozing off. Hooray for the sheets, I say. They live for another day. This one, at least.

My sunglasses, which has developed a knack for surviving tremendous pressure under the weight of a big fat slob of a lazy person like me was the next thing I laid my hand on. It’s a survivor. That’s all I can say about it.

Finally, I get to it. I find it lying on the floor, but still within reach of my arm that’s actually begun to tire.

A few seconds was all it took to exhaust all the energy of one lazy arm attached to one lazy body. The same one where you find two lazy eyes too lazy to open up to have made the recently-ended search that much quicker to accomplish.

It’s 31 past 7.

It’s “Gimme MOre” once more. I must have my phone’s alarm on “mangulit” mode.

There’s still time to waste so I shifted to dreaming.

We’re already friends but can you please give me more? Gimme more, gimme more. I just don’t want plain friendship. Gimme more please.

Hah! crazy me. Crazy love.

For indeed, I would give you my time, the world won’t matter.

To this fellow. Not just yet.

I’m falling for you my “Lord”.

Haayyy… hirap ma-in love.

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> mayfieLd sesSion

I was wedged in one corner thinking aloud — a diversion a friend thought unhealthy. But as someone who always defends himself, I tried to explain that I was only listening to some music. We were inside Mayfield’s spending the night with San Mig Super dry, one ala-callboy-dancing guy from another table, chips, chicken na mala-Andoks and sisig — a good escape from the week-long drama as workaholics. There’s absolutely no room for silence, and that time, a halloween party just ended so a group of magkakabarkada-slash-kapitbahays were still partying the night away. Kulit nila.

[* bumPy dapat ‘yan, tamad lang ako mag-edit…]


It really feels good to be with people whom you can trust, make-kuwento and laugh your hearts out. With kate, mike [her super cool hubby], Ryan and Myah, inin-joy namin ang gabi. Sarap! daming kuwento, tawanan at okrayan.


I got home at around 3am, and went ahead to sleep.


A day before that, a friend celebrated her 21st birthday as friends and relatives from different directions flooded into her crib. Yet again, the night was spent with almost the same scenario as before, only that this time everyone looked dearly familiar and loved. With OneWorld friends in tow? Astig!


Thanks to Kate and Mike for inviting us over.