Call-Out Over?

Hmmm… Owing to the huge number of responses I got in my last post (read: nada), I’ll just assume that you guys are too shy to introduce yourselves by commenting on a post specifically addressed to you.:P Again, I am not prohibiting you in any way in reading and/or commenting on my entries, but I just want to make a request that you do leave your name and where you’re from too (ex. Hi, I’m Joan from Timbuktu, and I just want to say that…), so I’ll have a rough idea on just how powerful the Internet really is.:p The only restriction is, no spam please!

Anyway, I realized that I haven’t really made a short write-up about what my blog will be about, so I decided to make one here.

First, the URL: jarletofclay. For those who are Jars of Clay fans, obviously, I count myself as one of you.:P Didn’t want to get the band’s actual name for the following reasons: (1) It probably is copyrighted; (2) I would be insulting the band if I say something that is contrary to what they’re saying; (3) and anyway, I’m too tiny (read: a few centimeters shy of five feet – the world is cruel, I tell you) to call myself a jar; and finally, (4) A friend of mine (calling out Nades :D) gave us little vessels when we first became Christians as a symbol of our faith, and it’s really due her why I chose the name. Again, an explanation of “jars of clay” would probably be helpful, and I got the verse from the band itself, as was written in their self-named, first album. In 2 Corinthians 4:7-12, it says,

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who are alive are always given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that His life may be revealed in our mortal body. So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.” (NIV)

All of us are jars of clay, fragile, delicate, easily broken, but we are God’s instruments to reach out to other people. We are His beloved children, and He will never allow us to be destroyed; chipped, maybe, or even broken, but not crushed and completely ruined. He is the Potter, after all, and we are but clay that He can fix and make new all over again.

Now, why Worlds Apart? Here, it gets a little bit more personal. I’ve chosen the name for a variety of reasons also. Firstly, “Worlds Apart” is one of my favorite songs by Jars of Clay, simply because it is raw and honest, a prayer of a sinner to the Lord. Anyway, my favorite lines from the song are:

Soaring on the wings of selfish pride/I flew too high/ and like Icarus I collide/ in a world I tried so hard to leave behind/the rid myself of all but love/to give and die/to turn away and not become/Another nail to pierce the One who’d loved/More deeply than the oceans/More abundant than the tears/Of a world embracing every heartache.

Those lyrics are incredibly powerful, and listening and reading these again just strike me at just how much God loves us. It makes me wonder just how many scourges He had to receive to save me, how many wounds that bled to wash me clean, how much insult and scorn He had to endure to even make me lift my head up. That’s how much was paid so that we could be purchased, the currency of which was blood and life. His blood and His life for ours.

Another reason, definitely less serious, is that I think I’m pretty much worlds apart from other people. I would call myself, in Filipino, as someone na may sariling mundo, ergo… Seriously, I’m really quite a bit of a nutter. I mean, if there was someone who’s exactly like me in this world, I would seriously pity that person. Even people who actually do know me get disturbed by what I do or what spouts from my mouth, be it doughnut conversations or vacuum-cleaning partehs (again, don’t ask, if you wish to keep your sanity). I’m really different from most people, and if some go and try to make themselves be “normal” (whatever that means), I really go and embrace my uniqueness (putting it politely). I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: all people are unique individuals, and instead of trying to hide it and pretend to be someone that they’re not, they should go all out and shout to the world who they are (within reason, of course, and hopefully not literally). Why should they want to be someone they’re not when they’re perfectly fine the way they are? God created you the way you are right now. Love it. Love yourself. You cannot even attempt to love someone if you don’t love yourself, and that’s an honest truth.

Anyway, regarding the contents: as I’ve said earlier, I’m really Worlds Apart, and that includes my blog style of posting. While some people choose to have multiple blog accounts so that they can create a new one for their hobbies, another for their relationships, and some for their pets (further segregated into the kind and breed, of course), I would much rather have just one single journal. It’s really quite practical: less time-consuming, easier uploading, and all that. The downside is, everything’s jumbled together, but that’s just the way I like it. I call it my organized chaos (as I like to describe my room as well.) Nothing’s really consistent, like I’d post so-and-so entry on whatever-day and all that. Everything’s just bunched together. Before, I made it a point to post an entry every Thursday, but that changed because I changed my schedule. Now, I just post when I feel like writing, when I feel I need to write something (urgings of the Spirit?), or when I have something to put up. In the end, I have poetry, photos, entries, rants, raves, book reviews, movie reviews, reflections of what I’ve learned, stories of how my day went, thoughts, opinions, etc. all jumbled together in a hodge-podge of stuff that could only be identified as Lani.

You might ask, why the heck is she writing all these down? Is she some vain idiot who thinks that the world revolves around her? My answer to that would be a hopeful no. Like most, if not all bloggers, I created mine to share my thoughts to the world, and the funny thing is that it is quite a lot, owing to the fact that I have a lot of interests and am quite opinionated. The main reason why I made a blog, however, is that I hope to reach out to other people through this, and hopefully share to them what my belief and my faith are. Admittedly, not all the entries here are pleasing to the Lord. I can think of some that I know are pretty secular, if you know what I mean. But these are landmarks of the person I was, I am, and hopefully, will also lead me to what I will be in the future. These make me who I am, including the nonsense posts I put up such as me being a total klutz, my teenybopper kilig (how is this translated, anyway? Butterflies in the stomach does not even begin to describe it), my political views, etc. In truth, I didn’t really want to have a blog a few years back. I actually hated the thought of online journals, because I thought that this is just a way for people to show just how shallow (sorry about that) they have become. Yet the Lord convicted me, and told me that this is one way for me to share Him to others, and just let me get some outlet for all the stuff that’s in my head. In essence, this is really me. I’m not a bot, not a fake. I am Melanie “Lani” Sison. This is who I am, and I pray that you continue to be with me in my faith walk.

For all those that my blog has even in some small way ministered to, I praise God for that. Let Him be glorified, and continue seeking Him everywhere, especially in the small miracles in your life. For those who disagree to what I have said, you can still leave your comments, but please do so in a nice way. Don’t lambaste other people just because you think you can. For those who’ve used my blog for “information,” (as it was called by someone who commented), I have no idea what that means.:O Sorry, but I really don’t. If you mean the text, then praise God if my writings have ministered to you. If the poems have touched you in a way, thank you too. If you liked the pictures, thank you again. But for those who might get too aliw (rough translation: amused) with the stuff here and decided to copy-paste it, especially the text, please don’t plagiarize my work. I’ve already had a bad experience in that in high school, and I don’t want to go through that again – ever.

Anyway, that’s about it for now. God bless y’all (and please don’t forget my request about leaving comments).

Yours truly,
The King’s servant but God’s first,
St. Thomas Aquinas


Oops! I meant, Melanie Sison.:D Cheers!

"Post-ers"

Hi everyone,

It's not that I'm annoyed or anything, but for the people I don't know who read and/orcomment on my entries, please do introduce yourselves. I kinda get confused when I get a message saying I got a comment from "Anonymous." Unless your name really is Anonymous, please do give me your name so I can reply to you properly.

Thanks!:) God bless!

Close Pa Rin Kami Kay Jesus!

It's been four years since I came to know the Lord. Four years since I discovered that there is still hope in this world, and that, maybe, it's not as dark and as evil as I thought it was.

Seeing at least some of them who made this possible is like coming around in a full circle. I owe these people a lot, and I'm not ashamed to say that I love these people so much. If not for them, I would not have known Jesus. If not for them, I might even be dead by now - or worse (what a dark entry this is turning out to be :p). These are the people who saw me take my baby steps in faith and who guided me (some of whom are still helping me walk until today!), and they would always be special people in my life. We've gone to different directions after Ateneo, but it's always great to see them again - like we've only parted for a few moments.

To our Bible Study group, I love you guys so much! You've been my friends, brothers, and sisters. This is really cheesy, but you guys are incomparable. Thank you for the faith, for the laughter (dolphins are never going to be the same, as well as the geography of the US of A), for the songs (really fowerpul ones, dey are :p), for the craziness (I would never have believed an umbrella to be futuristic), for everything. Above all, thanks for giving me hope and faith again. You guys are completely amazing. See you all in heaven, if not here on earth.:D

To my D Group, Wow. I can't believe just how far we've come along. A lot of things have happened. One has already married, one is just on the verge of, and the rest of us are... happily single. Haha! It's been such an amazing journey, and I pray we still continue to walk together. All I can say is... Close pa rin tayo kay Jesus!

Our House

Here are some photos I took of our house in the province. You can view more at my Photobucket account. I'll try to add more photos in the account, but if I didn't, it means I got lazy.:P Uploading photos with a dial-up account is certainly not the quickest thing in the world.:p
I didn't put in a lot of pictures from inside the house, especially the rooms.

Anyway, I forgot to put in the labels in the pictures, so I'll just put 'em here:
*We did not post for our family portrait. My parents said that they gave a casual family picture to the painter, and from there, he let his imagination soar.:p Can you tell which one's me?:p Doesn't really look like me, does it?:p As a side note, most of the people who've dropped by the house get creeped up by it. It's not as if it's haunted or anything, I mean, we're still alive, ya know.:p But anyhow...
*This is actually just a wall decoration beside the family portrait. Got amused by it, so I took a picture of it.:p
*The rocking chair is mine. When I was younger, I couldn't fit in the regularly-sized ones, and I loved rocking chairs, so they got me my own instead.
*In this picture, you can see a bit of my lola's house at the back.
*Most of the outside shots are from the front yard, except for this and this, which are taken from the backyard.
*My mom's the one who fixed all of the landscaping, layout of the trees, flowers, etc.! Pretty good, eh?:D
*In this picture, you can see a bit of my lola's house, which is literally by our backyard.
*This dining area isn't actually where we eat. The table is usually reserved for when we have guests over. We usually eat near the kitchen, which is actually separate from this area of the house. Forgot to take pictures of it, though.:(

Some other trivia about the house:
They finished building it a year after I was born, so it's about 18-19 years old already.

There was an error in the design or the construction of the house, so the lot wasn't really maximized.

Until the storms of 1998-1999, my mom had a lot of orchids all over the front yard. It came to the point that even people we didn't know would drop by to by some from her. However, the orchids got destroyed by the winds, the rains (our area in Pangasinan being the entry/exit points of most storms), as well as some other factors that I very well do not want to mention here. Anyhow, in so saying, here they are.

Photos from X

Yay! Finally thought of a way to transfer the pics from my phone to my computer (hafta spend for it, but at least I have them here already). As a way of celebration, here are some artsy-fartsy pics I took, a couple from Samar and another in a mall parking lot.

I'll say one thing about my phone: it might have a lot of issues with life (if it's alive in the first place), but it can take pretty good shots.

Excellent!

Things to be thankful for:
· For a victorious Excellence Conference
· Being able to serve the Lord and His people
· Being equipped by the Lord to serve Him according to His plan, knowing it all came from Him and not from me
· Being able to laugh at most things, no matter how stressful or mundane these seem to be
· Having fellowship with friends, new and old, no matter what background, race, age, etc., knowing that we are all united by God’s most amazing love
· Seeing just how much God has transformed and touched the lives of people, and being able to witness just how hungry they are for God
· Answered prayers
· Being able to praise and worship Him openly and unashamedly, for the gift of freedom
· For love and family, that these are from avenues that we did not expect to come from
· For small things that the Lord uses to bless other people

Lord, thank You for a completely amazing week. This has been a week of blessings, and I praise and thank You for touching our lives all over again. I might not have been able to truly attend the talks in the truest sense, but that does not mean that I did not learn anything from the Conference – because I did.

Thank You, Lord.

And Anger Becomes Her

(This will be the first time I’m dedicating a poem to some people. In some ways, this is not actually a literary work but more of an outlet to release pent-up emotions. Anyway, take it as you want.)

For the people who crossed my life at one point or the other.
You know who you are.
If you don’t, then you should.


And Anger Becomes Her

What is she?
Someone laden with a hero complex
Or a vigilante

Yet not masked as such in the ancient day
For masks have served their purpose to conceal
And she is anything but untruthful
For she is fighting a battle

A futile one, some might say
Profanity, still others would shriek
Yet no matter how much others would weigh her down
She would not, in good conscience, relent
For to conform would be to accept things as a lost cause
And some things are still worth fighting for

What are these that try to contain her?
Those that made her reach the mark

For though she might not have the world’s record for patience
Seldom would she reveal her emotions to others
But for a multitude of reasons, one more vile than the last

A broken promise, led on but abandoned halfway
Supported and abetted by others in the plot,

Set to destroy what has sought to be protected

Cowards who could not have said what it is in their hearts
For it is indeed safer to not leave the cradle of youth

Than to enter a life that does not promise anything

Severed friendships for the smallest things
Allowing chaos to steal what would otherwise have been a true comradeship

As it is easier to believe what is comfortable, and not what is true

Blind assent to whatever is dangled over people’s noses

When they would choose to accept what is fed them as gospel truth

Daring not to explore what lies within, for minds are not meant to be used

Shallowness that would make the tiniest puddle proud of its depth
Refusal to open their eyes to what the world is shouting to them

For ignorance for them is truly bliss

Pretenses as transparent as a teardrop
Believing themselves to be brilliant, concealed in their cloaks of superficiality

Not realizing that everyone else knows about their facades

Taking advantage of other people’s goodness to achieve one’s desires
Call it development of gifts, honing of talents

Yet it is nothing more but exploitation of others for one’s self-gain

Those who take the gavel and proclaim themselves judges of the world
Quick to decide who is wrong, quicker still to deny their own

A “holier than thou” attitude that conceals a festering soul

Mind control, for there is no other such term
Seeking to manipulate thoughts and emotions of those who unwittingly entered

But wanting is not getting, and getting is definitely not keeping

Is that all?

Not by far

For there are others, some without words to describe them

Yet all a personification of man’s baser nature

In vessels not expected to pour from

Yet all these combine, coagulate, transform into one

Anger appears in many forms

Some choose to weep, others to wail

But she allows it to form a shield around her

Much like a stone that is as hard as it can possibly be

Seemingly unfeeling, appearing unyielding

Yet for every piece of rock, there a dribble of water may always be wrung

So she squeezes herself out by taking the steps to departure

And since farewell is said to people with honor,

She leaves without a word to anyone.

Watching

Two bright orbs gleam, following you
Quiet, unassuming, but observing
Neither sightless ones, nor those filled with ignorance
But with a sharp glance that cuts the air like a knife
Eyes following wherever you go
Like a predator hunting its prey
It pounces on the subject, and devours
Staring at you unashamedly
Had you been aware of it,
Would the hairs on the back of your neck rise
Yet you move on, unaware of the silent observers
A couple of silent stalkers moving with you every move
Nobody is aware why these follow
Not one knows the answer to the question “Why?”
The eyes yet betray themselves
When, on unguarded moments, they ask the same question
Yet the dance still continues
With one continually seeking for the otyou who does not know of the pursuit
Would that this quiet game of hide-and-seek be played out
So that peace might be achieved

You Know What's Funny...?

When people fail to see what is beyond the tips of their noses.

When they see only what they want to see.

When they accept things to be what they appear to be just because it's easier to believe that.

When they think they know the answer, but they don't.

When they think that they have to look for the answer, when it's already in front of them.

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I love this poem, not merely for its contents, not merely for its message, but also the way it was delivered. Pablo Neruda has got to be the best poet ever. I wish I could write like he did someday.

Haunting Memories

I was in church a couple of days ago, and I bumped into a classmate I had in high school. After chatting, she left while I stayed, as I was waiting for the parish office to open. It wouldn’t have been a significant event if it was someone else, but given who she was, a lot of things came back to my mind.

You see, “Marie” (let’s call her that for the sake of convenience; I’d really rather not reveal who she is) was an outcast in our batch. She always got picked on by our classmates (usually by the guys) for just about everything that she was: her clothes, her appearance, her intelligence, even her voice. She wasn’t the brightest mind by any stretch of the imagination; in truth, she was eventually kicked out because her grades didn’t make the cut-off. I remember when she was already advised about her problem, and she told some of us about it, crying that her mom will get mad at her if she did get expelled. That was the only time I actually saw her cry, though. Even amidst all the bullying, she endured, even fighting back. I remember a time when she actually challenged some of the guys mocking her to a fist fight. Thinking about it, she probably was very gutsy, or she didn’t have enough sense not to rise to the bait. This is not to demean her in any way, but sometimes, her reactions to situations aren’t really how a typical situation would act. I admit that I go out of my way sometimes to be a little kooky, but that’s just how things naturally for her. She had a bit of difficulty understanding things. She was an eccentric character, although she looks more stable now than she was some years ago.

We really weren’t close. We’ve been classmates for a couple of years, and I can’t say that we’ve actually been friends in the truest sense of the word. At times, she would ask some of us for help, as I mentioned above. My best friends and I would also ask her sometimes to join us since she’s alone, and we’d occasionally coming to her defense when the guys would think they’re being clever by being nasty to her, but that’s as far as it went. A lot of times then, I found myself even laughing with them at her expense. I didn’t directly taunt or insult her, but I didn’t really lighten her load in those instances. Yet I never saw her flinch. She went on day-by-day and endured all of that, without even giving a hint that the words thrown at her hurt her in the least. She would bear it all. She might have been bullied, but she didn’t allow herself to be bullied, because she would fight.

One thing I’ve noticed about “Marie”, even then, was her devotion, something that hasn’t changed if Saturday afternoon was any indication. She was one of the few people who volunteered to lead the class prayer (something that was normally assigned to a person based on the surname or the seating arrangement). Aside from the verbal prayer she would recite in class, she seemed to also be praying for something else, something that was between her and the Lord only, and she would always maintain those few minutes of silence, with her head bowed and her mouth words soundlessly, despite the sniggering of some of our classmates.

Seeing her brought to mind some of the things I’m not proud to have done. Even though I didn’t directly participate in tormenting her, I still laughed with them and occasionally cracked some comments about her – usually when she wasn’t around. Indirectly, I was also causing her pain, not only because I didn’t tell the guys off often enough, but because I didn’t try other ways to alleviate the situation, even adding to it by my laughter. Seeing her, however, also reminded me how good God is. The Lord said, “Blessed are the poor,” and the last word can extend to so many dimensions. There are those who are poor financially, certainly, but there are also who are poor in spirit, in health, in mind, in their family relations, in their social relations, etc. All of us almost certainly belong to one of these, or in another category of poverty. Yet the Lord promises that those who are poor are the ones who will be part of His Kingdom, and that he pays special attention to those who are oppressed. “Marie” might have been a popular kid in high school in a really negative light, but the reason why she probably was able to endure was because she was so pious to the Lord. She might have had several problems, but she trusted in God so much. Who cares if people thought her strange? When she is in that special place with Him, these petty things can just be shrugged off.

That’s the funny thing about people: when they find a person who’s not like them, it’s either they try to convert that individual into something that is more to their taste, or they would simply treat him/her as an outcast. It’s like they’re saying, “Hey, there’s no room here for diversity. It’s our way or the highway.” I have admired a lot of people who chose the latter, because they didn’t conform to the system just because they felt they had to. For sure, bad traits should be tried to flush out, but to go along with the others to get accepted is a different matter. Why should you be like the others when you can be yourself? For “Marie,” it might be because she didn’t care what others think, or because she didn’t really have a firm grasp on the situation. Whichever way, she chose not to go the way that the majority went to. At times, I think she really was doing some stuff because she’s deliberately going against the system. If she broke the rules, it doesn’t matter, as long as she was embracing who she is. To be yourself is nothing to be ashamed of: it’s that person that God wants you to be; otherwise, He would have created you differently. Unfortunately, that’s not how humanity sees it. Because “Marie’s” different, she ended up being scorned. She became like a modern-day leper: when she tried to approach people, she got pushed back. Her faults, most if not all of which are false, were thrown in her face. She might have tried to fight back, but the number of people she was going against were definitely superior. Does that sound familiar? I hope it does, because that Person who went through that is the reason why the gates of heaven are open to us now. The only difference is, Jesus Christ did not fight back the world by going to their level. Instead, He gave Himself up and allowed Himself to be raised up – on the Cross. The Lord was also different from the rest of the crowd. He was the Messiah, after all, and He was not ashamed to be Himself, that is, to be the One to fulfill His Father’s will. He embraced who He was supposed to be, and He lived His purpose.

May we all look to God for strength and direction for living out and embracing who we are – as He wants us to be.

Deuteronomy 10:17-19: “For the Lord, your God, is the God of gods, and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who has no favorites, accepts no bribes, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and befriends the alien, feeding and clothing him,. So you too must befriend the alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.”

Nighttime

I scream in the seemingly endless darkness of the night
"God, why me?"
Tears stream down my face
My voice quivering with suppressed emotions
I lash out at You, promising never to come back
Thinking, "Where is the love You promised me?
"Why did You allow me to get hurt?
"How many times more should I feel pain?"
You took away your promise
Leaving me alone
I call out to You
But there is no response
Yet as I lay in the darkness, I notice
The stillness of the air, the twinkling of the stars,
The chirping of the crickets
I know I found Your answer.

Trip to Samar!

It's been quite some time since my previous post, so as a way of making up for it, the next few entries are a barrage of images from my trip to Samar (20-25 July 2006). It was such a great experience, especially with the trip to the beach. I managed to get bitten by a crab, taste a jellyfish, meet just about every cast member of Finding Nemo, among other fishies, while snorkeling, have a jellyfish swim directly in my face, acquire some gashes on my left leg (Lani the Klutz strikes again!), and fantasize that I'm on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean. I'm not much of a beach person, but I loved the island where we went to. It was absolutely lovely. There were virtually no waves (at least, not until you reach this area where surfers from all over the world apparently visit), there were so many fishies that you can see almost without trying, and it wasn't crowded! It's really a beautiful place, unspoiled by man and pollution.
I also beat my mom in videoke singing (don't ask), learned that shrieking is not necessarily the best way to try to get a high score from the said equipment, re-acquainted myself with the Waray dialect, got stranded in an airport for about eight hours, had my stomach digest my heart because of an awful plane trip (I so do not want to experience that ever again. Aside from the clenching of my internal organs, my thumb still hurts from the panic texting I did. Imagine the announcer telling the whole airport that your plane got diverted to another place because the weather in the area where you're in is way too dangerous at that moment), had my bottomless pit of a stomach resurrected for even just a few days, and used and abused my camera in its entire time spent with me. I would have posted more, but dial-up's not really the best connection in the whole wide world (check out the time differences between each post if you don't believe me.)

Samar Trip!

It's been quite some time since my previous post, so as a way of making up for it, the next few entries are a barrage of images from my trip to Samar (20-25 July 2006). It was such a great experience, especially with the trip to the beach. I managed to get bitten by a crab, taste a jellyfish, meet just about every cast member of Finding Nemo, among other fishies, while snorkeling, have a jellyfish swim directly in my face, acquire some gashes on my left leg (Lani the Klutz strikes again!), and fantasize that I'm on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean. I'm not much of a beach person, but I loved the island where we went to. It was absolutely lovely. There were virtually no waves (at least, not until you reach this area where surfers from all over the world apparently visit), there were so many fishies that you can see almost without trying, and it wasn't crowded! I also beat my mom in videoke singing (don't ask), learned that shrieking is not necessarily the best way to try to get a high score from the said equipment, re-acquainted myself with the Waray dialect, got stranded in an airport for about eight hours, had my stomach digest my heart because of an awful plane trip (I so do not want to experience that ever again. Aside from the clenching of my internal organs, my thumb still hurts from the panic texting I did. Imagine the announcer telling the whole airport that your plane got diverted to another place because the weather in the area where you're in is way too dangerous at that moment), had my bottomless pit of a stomach resurrected for even just a few days, and used and abused my camera in its entire time spent with me.

I would have posted more, but dial-up's not really the best connection in the whole wide world (check out the time differences between each post if you don't believe me.) Anyhow, here are a few, just for a sneak peek.:p

Artsy-Fartsy part 1

This set is my favorite among the others, although some from the other pages are also pretty cool. Some of these are similar with each other, but I still like 'em.:)

Artsy-Fartsy part 2

For some reason, I had a weird fascination with candles during the trip.

Artsy-Fartsy part 3

The plane shots looked pretty cool even if they weren't intended to be artsy-fartsy.:p Put in dark as midnight+night mode on camera and you have a surreal photo in your hands.

Miscellaneous Photos

Beach Photos

The jellyfish that I tasted (Seriously. Who would have thunk

it would feel nice on one's tongue?)

Dogs on Emo.

Ma cousines.

More Beach Photos

Isn't the beach water amazingly clear?
Our beach.:D

Some crab "gatherers"(Is that the right term? What exactly do you call them? Farmers? Fishermen?)

Not really a good shot by any standard, but I wanted to take a photo of the kingfisher (barely visible near the center of the picture)

Ang Mga Pirata ng Samar

Ok, either I was still suffering from a hangover from the PotC: Dead Man's Chest or from an overactive imagination. Whichever way, don't these look like scenes from the film, specifically from the island with those weird tribesmen?:p

Kinda like the shack with the paprika.

The bend where Jack Sparrow came from, running away for his life.

Ok, admittedly, there wasn't any scene with a raft in the film, but it still looks like it fits in the script pretty nicely, doesn't it?:p

Faces 1

When boredom strikes inside the terminal area of an airport, you become quite terminal yourself.

Faces part 2

...Sad...

...or mad...

... or tired...

or fried?

Close enough.

Ok, this time, I wasn't pretending. I really looked this weird by the time I got on the plane.