Tuesday, 20 September 2011
Greatest Marriage Proposal EVER!!
This is like one of the sweetest proposals I've ever seen!! The guy's really sweet and filthy rich as well--at least that I'm guessing 'coz he can afford a movie theater for his proposal... oh boy, this girl got really lucky...the guy must've been really in love...
Love. Love. Love.
POSTSCRIPT:
The best love story there is, is always your own...the Best Picture of your life...definitely!! So play your role wisely, and make an eternity of happy endings :))
**repost from: http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/1diwsy/icantseeyou.typepad.com/my_weblog/2011/05/greatest-marriage-proposal-ever.html
--thanks!!
Wag Na
This is such a nice way of coping up with heart breaks...having wonderful friends with "Band Aids" to aid your wounds. The pain may not totally get away, but it'll make things bearable 'coz you know you're not alone. Sometimes, all we need is someone to tell us that someday, "It's gonna be okay". When people stays with us through hardships, those were the best kinds of people we could have. And they're more worthy of our time, love, and affection. Genuine friends, through thick and thin--are like pearls...rare and not easy to find...and really precious these days.
POSTSCRIPT:
Maswerte ang mga taong may mga kaibigan na tulad nito...
Song is called "Wag Na" by OPM artist Yeng Constantino :))
Monday, 19 September 2011
Eat. Pray. HAPPY BIRTHDAY
In the first minutes of September 19, my 21st birthday, I decided to watch Eat Pray Love. In the first couple of minutes of the film, I felt like being in the same ground as Liz Gilbert (Julia Roberts)—except not yet married of course; wanna travel the world yes, and most importantly being in that position wherein you barely know what to do in your life. For the first time, I actually wish for a multiple-choice-type of decision making, wherein you just got to choose which path you prefer from a to c, then just deal with the consequences later than being stuck with this kind of situation—no choices whatsoever. So much for 21 years: 16 of it spent in school, 2 years learning to walk, 3 to speak 300 words, then BUMMER!! Happy Birthday to me!!!
Life is full of choices, of decisions to make—that, I learned and still learning every day. The difficult part though is—choosing. But today, I decide to be happy. I decide to smile. I decide to pray…to just lift it up to Him and surrender. The way I did in those 3 months before taking the board exam. I pray, “Lord, if it is your will, may your will be done”. Now, I’d still utter the same words before Him, “Lord whatever you decide my life would be, unto your hands I entrust my spirit. I know you know best, and I’ll try to do better.” When I wake up the following morning, I’ll smile and say “21 years have passed, another 21 years or so in the making…and it’s gonna be a blast.”—that is a decision I’d be making today. And tomorrow is the first day to start living with that decision.
Life is not a multiple choice type, but an essay. Each day you try to find the words to describe what your day has been…and after some time, when we go back and read those words again, there you’ll see how you were able to spend your life. Is it memorable? Is it happy? Are you more happy than sad? Were you hurt? How many times you’ve cried? How many scars have faded in the view? Were you able to stand after a fall? Were you able to learn through it all? Life isn’t simple—it’s just life. When I read those words I’ve written in the past, I’d seen that my life has been pretty simple; not complicated, not vague, just simple…I don’t wanna call it boring—just maybe, undemanding. But for the next jolt it’s not gonna be easy and I’ve got to take it seriously…because if I don’t, I might just end up clicking the ‘refresh’ button of my life and start over again—just like Liz Gilbert…but that’s her…and it’s not gonna be me. 21 years from now, when I look back, I wanted to tell myself “Oh yeah, that has been my life! Crazy and fulfilled life.” –and not a bitchy, crappy life.
 |
| Julia Roberts as Liz Gilbert (Eat Pray Love) |
Life…a free-falling ride…just go with it :))
—3:37 am
Thursday, 1 September 2011
CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC
1. I hate it that those movies make us look like a psycho-freak. One moment they make us laugh, then the next thing you know, you’re sniffing and trying to conceal your tears so that your friends (or your mom or sister or brother) won’t make fun of you.
2. I hate it that those movies makes me a couch-potato, and never accomplishes anything for the day…because I would rather listen to Adam Sandler sing than to hear my mom bellow for me to wash the dishes.
3. I hate it that I gain weight just by having a 2-day movie marathon. Like, I consume packs of junk foods for a 16-hour movie. And for the record, I really don’t get the chance to burn those calories for just sitting around while making a list of movies-to-watch-next.
4. I hate it that it keeps me awake at night (and on the wee hours of the day). How could you possibly sleep when you just saw Ashton Kutcher or Ben Affleck strip?! They would haunt you in your dreams, you know!
5. I hate it that it makes me greedy. I wanna have my own friggin’ cars like those that O’Connor and Toretto drives—or just my own Paul-Walker-driver would be fine.
6. It makes me dim-witted (a.k.a. slow) sometimes. Take for example the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I saw it and I know that it’s really a nice movie, but I was just dumbfounded by the fact that I never really understood why the guy has to forget his memories about his girlfriend. I guess I have to see it the second time because I really have to justify what I told my friend when she asked me if it’s really a good movie—I told her “yeah, it’s really beautiful and it made me cry”—I felt stupid for saying that because I don’t even know why I said that…plus I don’t even remember why even I cried when I saw that film.
7. I hate it that it makes me forget my age sometimes. Because I’d rather watch Ice Age and Alvin and the Chipmunks than Final Destination and Saw (even though I used to love FD 1-4). Seriously, my 9-year old brother bought a DVD of Final Destination 1-5 while I was waiting for Kung Fu Panda 1&2 to be downloaded…and when I told him the list of animated movies I have, he just shrugged me off!!!
8. I hate it that it makes me believe in Prince Charming—like I imagined my sister kissing that frog which keeps on coming back near our kitchen door and transform him into a gorgeous prince and live happily-ever-after (of course I would like my sister to go first in case that frog would turn into an ogre instead of a prince…like a trial-and-error thing).
9. I hate it that it made me jealous. Like Jennifer Garner marrying Ben Affleck, or Angelina Jolie becoming Mrs. Pitt (though I would prefer a better last name than that) or Vanessa Hudgens kissing Alex Pettyfer, or Cameron Diaz kissing Jude Law, or Drew Barrymore kissing Hugh Grant, or Ben Chaplin kissing Ben Barnes (—that was pretty disgusting by the way, that I have to close my eyes because I was so hurt how my Prince Caspian had to kiss Basil Hallward for a freakin’ narcissistic Dorian Gray who prefers to stay young! *awful*)
10. I hate it that despite all those things, I still love to watch movies because it makes me and my friends get together and bond…it’s one thing my father and I had in common…it’s makes me forget my frustrations and fears even for a moment…it makes me laugh when I’m sad and keeps me company when I’m alone…and most of all, those movies helped me get back to writing—like what I did just now!
POSTSCRIPT
There’s more actually, but it says only 10…besides, I’d hate to change the title in (More than 10) Things I Hate About Movies.
So, what do you hate about movies?
CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC (On Romance Part I)
There are different ways to portray a love-so-strong-it-could-withstand-the-storm sort-of type of stories. You could use the element of time to prove your point that love can stand the test of time, or distance maybe for which makes the heart grow fonder…or the royalties—prince and princesses falling in love with commoners. You could also use ghosts which haunts their loved ones due to their unfinished business and it leaves you guessing if that ghost would invade another human body so that they could still be together (or it was just me who guessed that way), or if the other love one would just die so that they could be together in heaven. Angels have also come down from heaven to fall in love. Speaking of mystical creatures, there are vampires falling in love with human, human falling in love with werewolves, or werewolves falling in love with vampires…and vice versa—which goes to say that love has no boundaries…anyone could love anyone…that love could break the rules—even the rules of the world we’re not even sure exists—like the Neverland, maybe. Furthermore, love stories could already exist or be based in the typical (sometimes monotonous, for some boring) day-to-day and realistic routines in life. Take these for example:
ü Best friends end up falling for each other. Like, you end up falling in love with your best friend and your best friend falls for someone else, but in the end of the story you still end up with each other. Who the hell knows how that turned out to be?!—well, as you may know, there are ways: one, the best friend whom you fall in love with, who you thought has fallen for someone else, is actually in love with you…you’re just too dumb to ever notice; two, that best friend of yours realizes that you’re the one all along, and that best friend of yours is just kinda stupid for not knowing early on; three, your best friend just made you thought that you’re better off as friends but is actually secretly in love with you, and there goes the confessions of your secret love; (and maybe there’s a whole lot more to that type of story)
ü Best friend falls for their best friend and ends up being just the best friend but the bestest-best-friend of the whole damn world!
(In my opinion, the best-friend-thing-sort-of excuse is really absurd…if your best friend is from the opposite sex, there is always the danger of one falling for the other…only one of the two things will happen: it would either ruin your friendship or you would eventually end up with each other…but truth is, it actually happens in real life and not just in movies!)
ü A stranger meets a stranger. (I guess that’s also a typical—and generally the most popular—start for any love stories in movies…aside, of course if you’re best friends or simply friends, maybe). Either, a dog-and-cat type of a meeting where one is pissed with the other, but as the saying goes: the more you hate the more you love; or, when the two met, flirts with each other early on—then of course, falls in love in the end.
ü Typical high school flicks: popular kid falls in love with the unpopular, like a geek/nerd/weird (or with a complete psycho) kid in school. Then the other kid becomes popular as well, then goodbye to the old-lonesome life (—seriously, that provides a better catch than popular kid succumbs to geeky/nerdy/weirdo-type of life).
ü Rebellious kid softens as he/she falls in love with the kinder and decent one and eventually changes for the better. (As love becomes a sort of excuse for being a better person. So, if one isn’t in love, one isn’t better??)
ü Broken-hearted, then finds somebody to heal their broken heart. (How to become broken-hearted: One, your best friend falls in love with your girlfriend/boyfriend then leaves you; two, your boyfriend/girlfriend cheated on you by snogging/sleeping with someone else; three, you just got played on by jocks/jerks/total assholes; four, bf/gf simply falls out of love or just got tired (or bored) with your relationship; fifth, bf/gf was never really in love with you…he/she just thought they are. But don’t worry because falling in love again is the best remedy for a broken heart—just don’t go breakin’ it over and over again)
ü Never really had a good relationship so far…goes searching for love…then finds out that the one they’ve been searching for was right there beside them all along.
ü Finds love in the most strangest of places with the most unlikely person. (In a story where soul-mates, Destiny, and serendipity exists)
There’s more to that list…indeed because those stories were based in real life. We also have our own love stories to tell. Probably, that’s the great thing in movies: it becomes a reflection of our lives. Sometimes we’re not even aware of it—that love is right there with us that goes unnoticed—then there comes this movie on which we can relate on…which we can say to ourselves “I know how that feels” because it’s there…because it’s true. That love exists—it exists in all spectrums of life, in both sides of the coin, in the corners of our world (I don’t care if the world is round!), night and day, rain or shine, in war or in peace, good or bad, heaven and hell, sun and moon—it’s everywhere! And there are different ways to tell great stories of love. Maybe that’s why we never run out of movies. There is always this movie which will bring us tears, joy, inspiration, and sometimes strength to pursue that love. And when watching movies, it makes us believe that true love exists…and sometimes, it also tells us that not all great love stories ends in a happy note…that not great endings has to start with a great beginning…or that not all stories even begins—some ends right before it starts. Sometimes it teaches us valuable lessons on love—and life in general. Love—can make or break a life, heal or mend the broken, become one’s strength or weakness…and that love is sometimes, all a person has.
POSTSCRIPT:
Everyone is a story-teller…everyone has a story to tell.
So, what’s your love story?
CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC (On Romance Part II)
I’ve seen a load of movies already—of different kinds, but more of the love stories type. As I make a new list of to-watch-for-movies, I realize that I grew tired of watching predictable ones. There are only two kinds of movies—the one who’ll end with the happily-ever-after part, just like the fairytales, and the other one which ends in tragedy. The former makes you believe in love and its power to defile hardships and impediments, while the latter usually leaves an impression that some things are simply not meant to be. Oh well, as a movie-addict myself, I love great stories and happy endings…but it’s usually those stories which leaves you hanging, depressed, mad, and really sad are the ones which would stick in your memory and the one that usually stands out. Take for example my top 3 favorite movies of all time: A Walk to Remember tops my list, followed by the ever famous Titanic, and then the movie If Only. If there’s one thing in common among them, it’s the fact that these movies really made me cry—not just sob, but really cry!—and the endings of these movies have haunted me for quite some time thinking, “why couldn’t they just be together?!” well, talk about hopeless romantic thinking that all great love stories always end up just like the fairytales. Of course I grew up, and now it’s different—from watching those tragic movies, I’ve learned something about love: I’ve learned that the depth of a great love cannot be measured by how well it ended—but on how the great love story’s intricate parts were weaved into beautiful and magnificent masterpiece which we would love and cherish for its beauty as a whole. It’s not about the spectacular beginning or the great finale of a love story that truly matters, but on the breathtaking and unforgettable plot of the story itself. It’s not about someone’s death in the end, but on how love actually made them alive.
POSTSCRIPT:
How I turn a tragic ending into an unforgettable happy ending: treasure the moments of the story which made me smile…made me believe in true love, in the beauty of life, and the story of forever.
Sunday, 21 August 2011
THANK YOU LORD!!
"Whatever Jesus has entrusted to you, use it in service for others and for God"
These are the parting words of the priest a while ago after the mass. Jesus entrusted the key to the Kingdom of God to Peter, the rock, of whom the church was built. Whatever he bound on earth will be bound in heaven and whatever we lose on earth, we will lose in heaven. In today's Word of God, He tells us that through Peter's courage and faith, God has made him the instrument to build His church. God has given me my license to become a nurse, and entrusted me the opportunity to touch lives in a way I was made for. As Jesus entrusted the key and the establishment of the church to Peter and the Apostles, much has been expected from them, and they delivered through the power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. Now, that I am officially licensed, I felt like I, too, has been entrusted with the key—a key of which greater responsibility held. I know I must deliver too, like one of Jesus' most loved disciple. There's no pressure in there because He knows what I can do and capable of—besides, the Holy Spirit is always with me to smoothen the creases whenever necessary. That's my faith—as to my courage, I am working on that everyday!!! What's there life to offer me is a mystery that's gonna make the upcoming days of my life a one heck of a ride that's gonna be fun, bumpy at times, but definitely fun!
Nursing isn't always my first choice...but I am going to prove, that I actually made the right choice. It's not the money, but it's the job—the chance to make a difference just by simply caring to mere strangers. "Whatever you do the rest of your brothers and sisters, you do it to Me" as what Jesus has once said. I promised myself to better in my profession by loving and embracing what I have in my hands.
POSTSCRIPT:
I would like to thank God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, for holding me tight especially on times that I'm slowly slipping away.
Thank you to Our lady of Salvation of whose light emanates in the four corners of my room—in those nights that seems scary and gloomy, her light calms my soul...and that same light is a spark of hope for a better day ahead.
Thank You to the great Saints of whom their intercessions I called—St. Jude Thaddeus, St. Benedict, St. Agnes, St. Anthony of Padua, St. Clare, and to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.
Thank you to my loving parents—mama and papa—they are my source of strength, inspiration, and most importantly, financial support (haha)...they're the best, most loving parents in the world! ...to my sister who is patient (if not always) with me, and my brother as well... to my Auntie whose there to hang-out with me and bring noise to my room...to my cousins, esp. Carla, my ex-roommate (miss you!!)...and to the rest of my aunts and uncles, and to my Grandmothers as well...
BUCN family—one of the strangely amazing family there is for me...who taught me independence, and how to find my motivation in the midst of adversaries and ambivalence—it is always the service for other people that makes Nursing a humble and noble profession—my great mentors has taught me that...and that's why I made it this far. Great efforts from strongly dedicated and caring professors...a great deal of gratitude belongs to you!!!
My colleagues now—BALLAMO DEMIRA, BLOCK BEE, DIYES the Insensitives, Group Six and Batch 2011 of BUCN—a hell of a job we did out there!!!—97.69% is incredibly a performance to date!!! CONGRATULATES to everyone!!! see you sa oath-taking...
Payee, Pepot, Tel, Neren, Marj, Hannah...thank you for standing by...kahit kelan, hindi kayo nawala...love you guys!!!
Agnesian community, and my former batchmates....thank you sa prayers and tiwala...
Kuya Honest...salamat sa pakikigulo sa amin...hahaha...
...and to my Pentagon-Legaspi family...it was a tremendous and totally fun learning experience with you... I never thought I would enjoy the concepts of nursing this much...thank you sa Magic 5 and to sir DJ...Kudos!!
Thursday, 18 August 2011
ONE IN SIX BILLION
There are six billion people in the world…
Six billion lives…
Six billion souls…
Six billion hearts that beat rapidly, slowly, each millisecond of the time…
In that six billion, sometimes, we only need one…
We only need one soul…
One heart…
In this one lifetime…
One in six billion, to make a difference in our life…
One in six billion, to make our heart skip a beat…
One in six billion, to fall in love with.
One in six billion, to spend the rest of our lives with.
There are six billion people in the world…
Six billion lives…
Six billion souls…
Six billion hearts that beat rapidly, slowly…keeping us alive…
In that six billion, we search for that one person for us…
And among that six billion, someone is out there looking for us…
There is this someone who’ll come and find us…
Monday, 15 August 2011
A SCAR FOR A BIKE
 |
| Disclaimer: photo not mine. |
I was 8 years old back then—I was running and playing with my sister in front of our home…typical children’s play, an ordinary day. We were running fast when all of a sudden, when I turned back, a bicycle was moving my way already…too fast I wasn’t able to avoid it. It moved towards me, unable to clutch the breaks before it hit me directly. I fell to ground, good thing my face and upper extremities were spared from cuts and bruises. However, my legs were bruised and I had a deep cut on my left knee and leg, and a smaller one on my right. It was bleeding and I was so scared and very much in pain that time. My mom came to me and cleaned my wounds. I didn’t know what happened to the bicycle driver, and I never even saw his (I know he’s a guy) face. I was hoping that my uncles and my grandmother would somehow reprimand him for being so careless—if that ever happened, I have no idea. While my mom was nursing my wounds, she scolded me for being so sloppy. She reminded me that I should always be cautious while playing along the streets, because in the first place, it wasn’t a playground where I just run around without being hit by anything with wheels. Most of all, she was so displeased by the fact that I have a very deep wound, that she said would definitely leave a scar. I was so young then, I don’t really care about scars and all. What I really cared about was the fact that I can see my gushing wound and that it really hurts. But my mom did—she worried that my soon-to-be scar won’t look so good on my legs. She, of most people cared about my skin, and she hated it every time I get bruises and insect bites. She wanted our skin to be unblemished. Talk about hygiene and skin care with my mom.
That was twelve years ago. The scar I have on my left leg is really visible (at least on my sight) blending against my skin given its complexion. It is at least an inch length and half an inch width. I never really paid much attention to it, but when I saw it in front of the mirror one day, it reminded me of that particular day—hazy with details but still present in my memory. I can still even recall that I was really crying that day. Nevertheless, it’s a mark of my past.
Why talk about scars? Well, there’s just so much about it and there are different kinds of too. Some are deep…some are keloid scars…some hollow ones…others are mere patch of distorted skin…there are those with breaks, and the ones with calluses. Each has a different story, but one thing’s for sure…it was once a wound—a deep one, that caused a great deal of pain. Wounds heal, in different stages and different paces. Not all wounds leave a scar because our skin regenerates. But only deep wounds leave an evidence—a scar—which our body can do no more than to just allow the pain to dissipate and the wound to close and heal. We all have been wounded…once, twice or more…felt a variety of pain, flashes different glints of memory about it—and then, we move on. But I guess, even if we’ve gone far enough, whenever we see that scar, the memory resurfaces and we may feel a bit of pain still…but it’s never the same again.
Because of that incident in my life, I never got the courage to ride a bike…I’ve always been afraid of getting wounded again…afraid of running because I might stumble and fall again…that fear stopped me from experiencing some great but simple joys in life. I never knew the feeling of actually riding a bicycle, because I never allowed myself to ride. It wasn’t that scar, but the pain I felt when I once had it, that never allowed me to summon the courage to get past through it. I guess we all get afraid sometimes, and our scars remind us of that fear—fear of pain. It’s a reminder, that we’re vulnerable. And it always—always takes time to recover. I always regret not trying hard enough to learn how to ride on a bicycle. But I know, that no matter how persistent our minds push us to do something we fear, every so often, we’re not strong enough. It’s not our fault—It’s just who we are. We all have weaknesses, and my own scar reminded me of my own limitation. We all move on, but our past doesn’t move with us. It stays as it is, and how it affects our present is a choice we always make.
Wounds become a scar for reasons—it’s been healed and it’s a remembrance of that experience we once had with our pasts. Just like with my scar, the memory behind it reminded me that we could run carefree through life—the breeze that brushes our face when we lope and the freedom that joggles in our feet when we dash—but in that run, there are bumps that could get in the way, some people who would jerk behind our back and topple us down. But most importantly, the ones who would raise us back to our feet again. The impediments, fall-backs, and pains we face in our life are never an excuse to remain stagnant and fearful, and coward. Life moves, and it moves with us.
POSTSCRIPT:
My mom, with her protectiveness, kept my fears at bay. That day, when she was so worried about my wound, I know she was most worried about the pain. I was crying and I know she was in much pain as I was. But she did a really good job of reminding me to be really cautious…to be extra careful while I run and play around—that some people are there to knock us down and never really cared to look behind and help us up. She won’t always be there to nurse my wounds—as a grown up, I had to do it on my own. Sometimes, we’re just by ourselves alone with the disappointments in life, and my mom doesn’t want me to go through that unarmed and unprotected. She knows that no matter how much she wanted to protect me and my sister, we will always feel pain. Maybe that’s why, that day, after cleaning my wounds, she bought me an ice cream—to let me know that no matter how painful it felt, how bitter it tasted, and how terrible it really looked—it’s just a choco-flavored ice cream that could save the day! She wanted me to know, that not all pain stays—it gradually disappears, either because of a numbing coldness, or a sweet tasting delight of something that’s really good. Nevertheless, it always goes away—maybe not entirely soon—but eventually, it will…
Sunday, 17 July 2011
LOOKING FOR NOTHING
 |
| Disclaimer: photo not mine. |
Monday, 4 April 2011
Monday, 14 March 2011
Sa Huling Pagkakataon
 |
| photo credits: weheartit.com |
Sa 15 na taon ng pagiging estudyante, nagkaroon ako ng 7 uri o design ng school uniform—1 noong Kinder/Prep, 3 noong Elementary, 1 high school, at 2 ngayong college (type A, B, at meron pa plang C—for civilian…3 pala). Laging tig-3 set ang bawat isa…5 set ang type A or clinical uniform ko…lahat lahat at meron akong naging 23 na uniform…isama mo pa ang mga naging PE uniform ko…hindi ko na mabilang…
Ano nga ba ang meron sa school uniform? Bakit sa tuwing naiisip ko ang huling araw ng pagsuot ko nito ay nakakadama ako ng kakaibang lungkot? Kung tutuusin, kapirasong tela lang naman ito, at marami ka pang kaparehong design…at hindi ito pasok sa fashion statement ng mga tao. Pero bakit kakaiba sa pakiramdam mawalay dito?
Sabi nila, ang school uniform daw ay form of identity. Ito ang pagkakakilanlan ng paaralang iyong pinapasukan. Araw-araw pagpasok, ay suot-suot ko ito. Minsan na din akong na-late dahil sa hindi plantsadong uniform, at pumasok na parang hahabulin lang ng plantsa…napagalitan dahil sa “incomplete uniform” at hindi papasukin sa klase dahil sa “not in uniform”. Umulan man o umaraw school uniform ang kasabay ko sa pagpasok sa klase…may transport strike o wala…first Friday masses, third Sunday masses at sa mga misa na idinadaos sa school…school programs, recognition day, teacher’s day, valentine’s day, at sa pagkarami-rami pang pagkakataon. Suot ko ang school uniform ko sa mga masasaya at di gaano kasayang mga sandali ng pagiging estudyante ko. Ito ang suot ko nang makilala ko ang mga kaibigan ko…nang matutunan ko ang photosynthesis, solar system, Laws of Motion, pag-solve ng Algebra, Trig at Geometry problems… nang makilala ko sina Einstein, Newton, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Robert Frost, Homer, Elizabeth Browning, Confucius, Jose Rizal, Apolinario Mabini, Emilio Aguinaldo, at marami pang iba. Ito rin ang suot ko nang makilala ko ang teachers na naging inspirasyon ko at hinangaan, at minsan ding naisipang gayahin. Marahil ito rin ang suot ko nang matuto akong magdasal at nang unang natutong mangarap.
Sa bawat uniform na meron ako, may kakabit itong mga alaala ng kabataan ko, mga naging pangarap, mga pinaghirapang exams, mga nadaluhang recognition day kung saan sinasabitan ako ng medalya…at napakarami pang karanasan ng pagiging estudyante. Sa bawat araw na suot ko ang mga ito, ipinagmamalaki ko ito. Nagsisilbi itong simbolo ng aking paglalakbay tungo sa pag-abot ng aking mga pangarap. Sa bawat panahong nagdadaan, kumukupas din ang mga ito—ngunit hindi ang mga hibla ng pagsusumikap, para makapagtapos ng pag-aaral, na kakabit narin nito.
 |
| photo credits: weheartit.com |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)