Curriculum Vitae

I can't stand it, this little system we find ourselves stuck in;
these rankings of numbers and alphabet letters to indicate superiority, undermining the majority of E-grade students who work in the storehouses, sweatshops and McDonald's for an honest day's meager pay who, I don't know, f
eed and clothe the rest of the world and the canonized minority, statistical absurdities who sit at the top in their safeguarded fortresses, all back massages and shiny fingernails; who don't carry bricks across bridges each day.

I can't stand it, this little system we find ourselves stuck in;
and everyone's
but some are more equal and special than others

these big golden badges and achievers' ties, with the shiniest smiles who didn't get caught;
the ones who spat back in authority's face, and now strut about like they own the place
I can't stand it, this system we find ourselves stuck in

Twelve years of five days a week in subjects they choose, expanded horizons and little black shoes
reduced to a few sheets of paper

white, with black ink

typed(size twelve)

seldom with photographs.


Date of Birth, Current Age

Colour (of your epidermis) [roughly grouped]

Telephone and Email and Physical Address
Driver's license? (copy, if yes)

Education, past vocations, extra-curricular occupations

Community Service (What have you given that we want you to take back?)

References, you must have those, but no shoes
Nobody's going to be walking a meter inside of them.

I lost my phone!

My mom used to tell me that I'm very good at losing things. I couldn't disagree with her on this. Besides, she's my mother and she probably could remember all the instances of me losing things from ballpens, thousand-peso mobile phones, wallet, to a pair of pants, to even my entire school bag.

Just last week, barely a month after I called a friend 'burara' for losing his phone, I lost mine - for the nth time around. Talk about backfire.

The worse thing about losing a prepaid phone is that you can't recover the contacts and your former number, ergo an empty phonebook. Too bad my overdependence on phone memory has arrested my brain's ability to memorize phone numbers. On a lighter note, a kind officemate lent me his spare phone for me to use temporarily before I could buy a new one (one that is snatch-proof/wouldn't really hurt if I lost it), and apply for a low-cost postpaid plan.

So friends, if you text or call me, you know what it means. I'll contact you the first thing I get my hands on that new handset :P

Ambiguity of growing up

Call it a dilemma, the feeling as if the world is full of choices and yet you can’t decide. Call it a deadlock, the final moment when you have to decide but failed to do so. Call it a tragedy, a decision wrongly made. It is horrible.

Today’s world is an avenue of choices. Every stop is a matter decision. Every corner is another road that takes you to another route, another destination which you should take but failed to do so or should never but did so because you are not sure. You are lost. The world is full of possibilities, yet not all are good. For a yuppie like me, these are realities which we have to face and live with everyday. Every moment of our lives is a matter of choice, and a wrong decision may mean a lot.


This is a country where leaders easily get away with truth and are held unaccountable for their actions, where extrajudicial killings are commonplace, and where justice favors the rich and the powerful.  More than half of the country’s population lives in stark poverty and unfavorable conditions whose root cause is attributed to the perils of bad governance and the attitudes of people towards it. Often, this plight is blamed to the country’s long colonial history and archipelagic composition.  But how long should we hold these things accountable without making any effort to change the situation?

Will Pacquiao do it? Or Jessica Sanchez.

Favorite Travel Photos – My 7 Super Shots

Le Flâneur is a French term coined to define a person who strolls or loiters, usually without a destination in mind. A lovelier word, peripatetic, refers to someone who travels from place to place, especially working or based in various places for relatively short periods. Its origin is Aristotelian, with reference to the Great Philosopher’s manner of walking to and fro while teaching.

These are most suitable if I were to describe the person I have been for the past year. I was consumed by wanderlust—triggered by my post-grad trip in Ilocos, which was spent contemplating on my life and whatnots. (For reference, please see Wanderlust).

Some claim that people in constant journeys are on it for an escape—they say people like me are commitment-phobic, relentlessly needing a change of environment to fulfill one’s thirst for freedom and new space. However, these critics fail to realize that such journeys make a person more aware of one’s positioning in the world. Travels open one’s mind in the wider spectrum of things. It challenges everything that is familiar, but also leads to a more in-depth understanding of oneself. It is a journey of moving out and coming back, a commitment of being better after each endeavor.

I have made several journeys last year that had different implications on my life. They have varying levels of influence, which altogether changed the person I am and reaffirmed my most precious principles. So here I am, humbly presenting 7 SUPER SHOTS -- My favourite travel photos.

Staycation 1.0: Azalea Residences, Baguio

Seated on the lesser-dense pockets of Baguio city is a new addition to the number of prestigious hotels and accommodation for people who wanted a luxurious stay in the city of pines. A group of bloggers, including me of course, was invited by the hotel for a weekend stay. (we call it staycation; a portmanteau of stay and vacation............ umm.. well... i know... i talk too much.)

Arriving at 3:12 am in the hotel's porte cochere, a person opened the door of our van, in which they called a bellboy (I'm not that cultured of a person to get a privilege of staying in a high end hotel like this, much more be guided into their 8-step arrival staircase, and know what a bellboy means.)

The chilly wind blew hard in the Saturday morning. Observing the place is the last thing I was able to think of but still the well-designed entry statement caught my attention. Designed by an architect, i thought. Properly landscaped rotunda, an iconic water feature and a non-imposing, well-lit building architecture blends in with the surrounding landscape. Meanwhile, we barely had sleep from that 6-hour ride from Manila and good heavens a hotel came to our rescue.

The band has no name

Hello, hello. Sorry for that spur of the moment rant. I guess I just had to do it to let out the feeling of sadness at that time. Actually, I was supposed to just write about the photoblog i promised, but I ended up writing about myself. It was so spontaneous- I didn’t even mind the errors in the grammar ,..Like this kid I saw in La Union.

MORE SPONTANEITY. That’s what I shall achieve. That's what people like and hate about me. I wouldn’t care about making mistakes, taking missteps, or committing errors- every thing, EVERYTHING is just about the experience, and learning from it.

All my years, I have planned my life detail by detail. But it’s becoming frustrating. I never get to enjoy the NOW, because all I think about is the future. I don’t notice what’s here because my vision is always towards somewhere very far. I deprive myself of love, being loved, and giving love, just because I feel no one can keep up with the pace I am setting for my never ending chase.

I have calculated all my life in such a way that it caged me, and limited me in discovering my boundless potential.


--- Because it’s only by going through all these things and being ALL these things would someone LIVE. Yes, even being hated is part of it. We need to break free from all the norms and expectations, and what other people say is right for us.

This time, logic will play the littlest part. And I wouldn’t care if I make mistakes.