I write to expose my internal universe, to capture life and its absurdities, and to testify to the reality of God's unfailing love through difficult seasons of our life.
Our trip to Islos Bonitos was a relaxing experience. Hubby and I were able to unwind and rest our weary minds far, far away from the grinding heat , pressures and tension of rat race living in the metropolis. Oh, how it felt good to breathe fresh air, how soothing was the cool and musty sea breeze enveloping our jetlagged bods, how invigorating were the nutritious and sumptuous meals we all feasted on. Indeed, life on this side of the globe is a far cry from the topsy-turvy jungle of Manila. Its rustic charms and unrelenting beckons seem too hard to resist now. And what of the chima-chima ? The kids could not have enough of the food. Yummy treats for the gastro-adventurists abound. Grind, grind, grind. Our tummies never stopped chomping. The kids frolicked in the pristine waters for two days and marvelled at colourful corals, sea urchins and starfish aboard Tito’s ever-reliable boat. At night, Kuya belted his trademark videoke pieces –“Don-don, Beat it, Complicated” while t...
We have been complimenting the kiddo as of late about his striking similarity with one of the hottest moviestars in the country--- the youthful Coco Martin. For reasons unknown to us, he pouts, frowns and angrily reacts, as though he’s received a lashing instead of a compliment. Here’s what usually transpires: Dad: (while driving, notices the gaint billboard of Coco in an ad campaign for Max’s) Oh, it’s Orvik! Rovik: Yah, you really look like him. Mom: (sings, Co-coro-co-co, Paloma ..) So handsome... Orvik: ( covers his ears in disgust, shouts ) Nabuang na kayo kay Coco! (You are crazy over Coco!) I don’t like him! Mom: But you look like him. Orvik: No! Dad: Okay. You don’t look like him. Coco looks like you! Orvik: ( shouting ) They are just the same!!! Our Little Man We are all amused. Hearthrob Coco
Blow one’s top Go berserk Let off steam Mad as a wet hen A bull in rampage These are the idoms in my writer’s tickler that fall under my scribbles on anger. Alongside are words evocative of the same meaning – rage, indignation, wrath, ire, fury. For the past weeks, I have been brooding over this negative emotion that has caused many an earthling to make brash decisions and actions that have damaging consequences. It has also caused needless grief and heartache. I have encountered people who often display this emotion – at school, at work, at home, in the grocery store, in the parking lot, in the restaurant—practically anywhere. I have also observed that its display is not confined to a particular class or age group. When piqued, kids fight back. When scolded, teens lash acerbic words. When bored or ignored, wives nag. Fathers spank. Bosses shout. Employees backbite. Soldiers shoot. Still, others kill. Where did this ticking time bomb of emotion originate? Why do we experie...
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