White Wooden Buoy

Dates

2009-02-02T16:44:00.001+08:00

The number of dates hanging from a date tree is probably just as many as the dates that a person has kept to himself to remember, whether or not they're birthdays or holidays.

February 2 will always remind me of you.

Well, good luck

2008-12-30T23:19:00.002+08:00

Reviewing stuff about circles and spheres in a few.

... what a sedentary holiday.

The Smile Protocol

2008-11-08T20:13:00.002+08:00

There aren't many posts that were written in a carefree spirit in this pseudo-journal.

Oh well, hustling bustle.

Poem: Into the Abyss

2008-11-02T20:37:00.000+08:00

The dream tinted a dim teal
and tens of maidens in milky skin
had me taken to a world surreal.
Was thrilled—dove without a fin.

- Unfinished, 11/02/08 8:37 PM

Poem: Impossible Sky

2008-10-02T23:29:00.004+08:00

I am a tree that
is with leaves that reach
for a thousand yous.

Soften my bark, star,
so the breeze flows smoothly
as your flickering.

Honestly admit
that I will vainly despair
'til the next dusk,

eager to see you
beneath its dark blanket, clouds
dimly scattered,

and will stare from
here, a little place
where I reside.

10/2/08, 11:29 PM

A handful of coins and flowers

2008-09-27T18:02:00.005+08:00

I hitched a ride with Calel yesterday (as usual).

While we were walking in the direction opposite the cars to look for Fidel, his family’s driver, a group of elementary students passed and one kid scornfully remarked: “Mga yosi boys.”* Because we were walking toward the area where our school’s smokers hang out to do their thing and that we’re high school students, I assumed they probably assumed that we were. No, we aren’t.

Going through road signs that were blocking our way, we found the car. Now, since there were a couple of documents sitting on the passenger seat in the front, I opted to sit at the back. I’m usually told to sit in front by Calel.

Ahoy, we're sailing!

2008-09-27T17:03:00.007+08:00

Disregarding the grit that formed in the corners of his eyes, the boy on the buoy saw what he thought was his demise.

Heaps of kelp were afloat around the wooden thing that should have been eaten away by wood boring organisms. Whatever island that was before him that he once called his was cloaked by the thickest haze of blue and gray. He thought of both displays as signs of his and his birthplace’s looming undoing.

He asked one of his companions aboard the buoy, a talking barnacle, what transpired before he got up.

The creature replied calmly, “Shrimp-crab told me that the rock that has been hooked on by this buoy’s anchor flipped over. ‘Sup, we’ve been enjoying the nori down here while you were snoozing.”

Stopping Procrastination

2008-09-19T23:31:00.003+08:00

What is currently a very prominent social phenomenon but has had its verbal value degraded into a cliché is now being comically refused by my system and ideals.

Unless I want to live on instant noodles, instant ramen and instant whatever-powder, I will have to stop putting things off. I'm getting off this lazy life. I resolve to get a job.

Row, row, fight the power!

Notes on a long Sunday

2008-09-14T14:04:00.004+08:00

'I' have always 'fooled myself' to work as if the status quo would improve or be maintained on its own if I were to shut up, lurk, and be passive.

It has dawned on me since the first time I encountered an inescapable difficulty. I was never caught ignorant, I chose to turn my back against them problems.

We can't all be unimportant.

Reviewing the Post-It wads in my memory

2008-08-22T22:32:00.001+08:00

Since it's high time I update this web log of mine, I guess a little dirty work is required for me to get some desirable results out of not-so-desirable topics.

- Potty Management: Hygienic and gender indifference on the throne and everything around it
- Into the Polaroid Past: What are your memories of instant photography?

This post was made on August 8, 2008, when RAM woke up after a day that involved his teeth being cleaned.

Poem: Red String

2008-08-19T22:19:00.005+08:00

It is I, nil to you,
pulled along a people sea
and yet to reach that sweet debut
since you seek that missing ‘he’.

Perhaps you’ve forgotten
whose hand you’ve clung to
Perhaps I’ve fallen
in love’s sweet revue.

“Go there, there’s my sweet,
come on fast,” said lass.
Off you go, my petite,
I’ll help myself, alas.

It is I, nil to you,
pushed ‘round by people sea
and yet to reach that sweet debut
Since you seek that missing ‘he’.

You loosened your gentle grip,
and never looked back.
Told myself “Don’t bite your lip,
As she’ll return, your little lilac.”

From a distance eyeing you both,
so cloudy my eyes were
as your boy made an oath.
Or was that my heart bitter?

It is I, nil to you,
out of that crowded people sea
and never to reach that sweet debut
Since you’ve found that missing ‘he’.

Your scent never ceased to linger,
so didn’t falter this heartfelt autumn.
I wanted most that I see you later,
but dog yips had to be kept mum.

That came in a long while;
I did not make out your return.
“Take my hand and I’ll
have you take me to a nearby Saturn.”

All composure retained,
This boy replied, “Of course,
a like request has been contained!”
My heart pumped fullest force.

It is I, in front of you,
this time with you who’s chirping in glee
and maybe to reach that sweet debut
I guess I’m your missing ‘he’.

8/19/08 10:19 PM

Yume, yume, yume

2008-08-18T21:07:00.007+08:00

Calel Gosingtian - Sing me to sleep, I'll see you in my dreams.
Ram - The itch to see you persists even in my dreams.
Jorel Esteban - At least, in my dreams, you're there, and I'm with you.
Victor Sison - Currently elsewhere, somewhere in my dreams.
Rica Enriquez - Your gestures are never scripted in my dreams.
Sakura Shishikura - I shall be looking at you from afar, hoping that you will cross my path even in my dreams.
Kevin Candelaria - I've never truly dreamt until I've had you in my dreams.
Kevin Reformado - Sugar is much sweeter in my dreams.
Sunny Abad - I saw Kevin in my dreams. (Alternative: In the night, I break away and there remained your voice in my dreams.)
Karen Ybanez - Lie with me for a ticket to a concert in my dreams.

Quoting the idol of the youth

2008-07-12T20:00:00.002+08:00

"Come on, you're dealing with the girl who swam 7000-8000 metres a day for training!"

Belonging

2008-05-14T16:58:00.003+08:00

No paradise remains a paradise for eternity unless we indulge ourselves in it.

The Game

2008-04-10T23:48:00.005+08:00

I was randomly tagged by Kim a while ago, so I thought I would give this a try... but I would not be tagging anyone.

The Game: The rules are easy, just post 10 things that recently made you happy!
Then tag 10 people. (This is Blogger, n)

1. Being able to slightly fix my body clock made me feel physically healthy, and it also made me remember that anyone can change anything with sheer will and faith working together... to help me sleep.

2. The thought that I could open my window for me to breathe in outside air made me feel content... but the recently-occurring cat stag fights seemed to kill that appreciation for our place's unusual architecture.

3. Hearing roosters crow at this time made me laugh.

4. Various message board and image board members' posts killed me. Posts like "PROOF THAT FLATCHESTED GIRLS ARE BETTER
REMEMBER, WHEN A GIRL WITH A FLAT CHEST HUGS YOU, SHE'S HOLDING YOU CLOSER TO HER HEART" on a fashion image board shook my spine up in several ways and levels of strength. Wow.

5. Sounds that I produce when having a pleasing time with my guitar are... pleasant.

6. Happy Day (New Age streaming radio) has been keeping me in great emotional states for a month or so now. If you want to listen to this streaming radio station, (Message cut, link does not exist)

7. Christopher and the way he says things made me laugh earlier today.

8. Ein's thread

9. Animals should not be able to understand speech, but my aunt’s poorly-named mynah bird Pokpok seems to contest with my common sense... (That thought keeps me entertained)

10. I have just thought of posting something helpful or of substantial value to you readers.

The easy step back

2008-04-09T00:39:00.007+08:00

I am here to take the chance of being able to look back without effort.

Just like the profile, my thoughts took me back to a million or so instances of myself, wherein I was not aware of anything but the present agendas. It is so interesting to think that people change but still remain as the same person. People's feelings waver from melancholy to contentment. The swings are very much like the weather that never seems to be predictable and can change at the last second you record information.

Maybe I would not find these thoughts interesting in the future, who knows—

An Achievement With Dishes

2008-03-24T02:45:00.006+08:00

My inverted body clock started to function normally today. I presume that it was because I got myself busy with tinkering with the cabinets around my place, with practicing my disgustingly rusty cursive style of writing, with browsing forgotten artifacts of the old world from the past years of my stay in seventh grade and high school, and with sweeping the floor and arranging a few things.

I found myself standing at the foot of our sink, looking at the whole mess that inhabited the kitchen. It probably was not a hallucination, that lizard that sheepishly looked at me before jumping off to the floor. I turned the faucet’s knob and thought of remembering to jot this down for posterity.

Because I do not want you to get bored with my declaration of more fondness to wash the dishes than to fix beddings, this sentence will fill in for the heck of securing that idea.

I then finished washing the dishes passionately and to finish the whole agenda went back to this collapsible chair to type in something about that wonderfully explosive experience.

Wait, that didn’t sound like a good ending

Maybe I’d add in: “My glasses had lights reflected unto them that shifted through cooler tints, and while the special effects team had a field day with them, the expression on my face was as dull as the story of Lapu-lapu being able to kill Magellan as recorded. At the back of my mind, though, I knew that I felt strange and giddy inside as I remembered a conversation with a friend – all these frames flashed through as though washing dishes was my first love.”

… now that I’ve reread that part, maybe not.

Posted by RAM, March 24, 2008
Edited on August 22, 2008

Poem: Una Anticipacion de un Frecuentar

2008-03-01T11:58:00.007+08:00

Like you, the music stirs up in me
attempts of bonding stilled by fervor and
a mood of defeat.

Your fingers incite a challenge
and the sounds never fail to please.
Thereon does my fruitless love continue

for you, and ye classical music.

3/1/08 11:58 AM

Against living high school on the edge

2008-02-05T19:29:00.002+08:00

Instead of finishing our to-be-due-next-week Filipino, Social Science and Christian Living projects, I read a lot of journals by people who I know.

Like a slinky cat, I let my back slide down from my seat’s backrest and fumbled the chair’s metal parts: it’s been a tiring academic day. I then remembered that it’s been a couple of days since I have started procrastinating again.

Seriously, I have to grow this attitude out, if that is even possible without my consent.

The School Bus

2008-01-28T19:55:00.003+08:00

As if in a dream, I get a chance to sit as a 'real' passenger, with a little comfort after a tiring and depressing day. I just wanted to stop scanning my notes and forget about everything else and just sleep, but I figured God would not let that happen.

Not a lot of you know that I come from and go to school by riding a school bus. I am to describe this school bus and everything that comes with it.

Our afternoon school bus ride is usually accompanied by a want to end the day and just start with the next simply because it is unpleasant to even just sit there.

The bus (which doesn't entirely look like a bus at all) resembles a simple yellow box with caution marks and a couple of words that seem to be just painted upon the surface with charcoal. Its windows, recently tinted, are shaded blue. Inside, it has an orange interior design, with two old long red chairs which sit sideways from the driver's and the passenger's seats. The non-working, heat producing air conditioning unit looms just a couple of heads above the end of the two main chairs. Gray, worn out and dirty, the flooring that has been here from the start of this millennium sports a lot of stains from God-knows-what substances from its inhabitants.

Here reside kids aged six to seventeen, with the 'kid' driver and conductor who take care of these tired individuals and bring them back to their homes. I do not exempt myself from this setup—I have been riding this bus in the afternoon for a long time now.

Not only did the paint job, the cooling, the leather for the chairs, but also the relationships, the tiny communities within this not-so-nice vehicle have deteriorated from the red box of the future that it once was.

[WITHOUT PROOFREAD AND IS INCOMPLETE]

Sharp Gentleness

2008-01-25T17:34:00.002+08:00

Drifting through my own lullaby kept me awake at the last hours of the afternoon. I have not been bothered and relaxed at the same time in my life like this—the pressure of wanting to write a song and the soft beats carried me to a paraiso of mine.

I twirled a 2B graphite pencil from a canister between my slender fingers, while I listened to the alluringly soft voice of Isabelle Ortega, but I did not write a lyric - instead, this proprietor began making both smooth and rough strokes on a sketchpad.

How the week was used up

2008-01-20T07:51:00.002+08:00

Many should find this post useless.

The day was Monday. The week started with a tiring class and a new school bus feature: window tint. I slept right after I got home.

The day was Tuesday. I learned that I will be the student-teacher for Social Science for my class. It was another academic day with little challenges here and there. We breezed through it quickly. I slept quite early.

The day was Wednesday. I asked Mr. Harold Diokno for the topic I will have to make a discussion about with the class. The amount of absentees due to the Mandaluyong Meet was obvious. We breezed through the day. I slept at the usual time.

The day was Thursday. We had our ID photos taken during PE. I got tired during class and meditated for a while. When I returned from school, I did some exercises and called people up to ask for a little advice. I slept at the normal time.

The day was Friday. I was chosen to be the English student-teacher for my class. I might be passing the job to someone else soon, but I would want to study the subject a little more, too. A small achievement on that day was that I reported with a lot of details missed but it was kind of impromptu. I slept late due to browsing through a couple of my notes and our book. I was not able to come to Alvin Atacador's place for us to start on our Drafting Project.

The day was Saturday. I started the day by stretching and reading our book. I browsed through a couple of message boards and found some interesting things. I began drawing human figures to practice male anatomy while studying the topic. I stopped because it was my cousins' birthdays today. I slept incredibly late and studied again before sleeping.

The week was fairly productive. Looking back, I could've done much more that just 'that'. Currently, I'm studying World War II intensively for me to absorb the important details and point out some that the class should know by now. I'm going to try and rethink how I should be managing my time and approach to the class. I've also been thinking that I've been thinking too much.

Love

2008-01-03T20:43:00.000+08:00

Sitting down on a chair, I ate my lunch while watching people walk across the doors of the cafeteria I was in. Two men who were sitting around my place caught my attention, but I tried to not lock my eyes with any of them for me not to attract theirs.

They were elderly people, but I thought: "Hey, this is interesting." (If you have always thought that I suck, then this would be the time when I allow you to shout it out - I won't blame you for it)

The first guy who I noticed was in his striped polo shirt and boxer shorts. He looked like a gentle person, so I just watched the place as he did, with kind eyes. The second person was in a pale yellow polo shirt and black pants, with which I associated a high position. He looked extremely serious and cool, with some smoke coming from his nostrils - I presumed he was smoking, and obviously, he was. He was listing something that looked important, so I thought he worked at the place. Another plus: he looked important.

I finished my food a couple of minutes later. I tried sending text messages to my peers and teachers. None of them replied.

I observed them.

The kind-looking one slowly walked around the place, got a piece of chicharon, and offered people the piece. They all declined. Then, he got a tetra pack of chocolate milk and offered the other old man, but he declined. The kind man smiled, and seemed to notice me watching with interest. He sat down at the "yellow polo man"'s table, and made the serious-looking one smile. The "yellow polo man" killed his cigarette's fire, and seemed to share a story with the kind-looking man. I guessed that they were talking about a person with interest.

Me.

Poem: Shame to the Bard

2007-12-27T01:13:00.004+08:00

One should ask all that

a cute face can buy you a satin hairpin
a reputation get tasks of good standing
a wise come with gold
a gift of eloquence can give joy to one who knows none

Then, are you my hairpin, my pride, my gold, and my poems I devote.

12/27/07 1:13 AM

Poem: I Wait

2007-12-27T01:07:00.002+08:00

I wait and images of you appear;
shun most and make one clear.
I wait 'til the papers change date
Then do I wonder if is it too late.

Like yesterday, the day sets
All's the same, I wait.

12/27/07 1:07 AM, el Segismundo 11/02/08 8:11 PM

Awakening

2007-12-23T11:42:00.001+08:00

Of all the present heroes in this time, I know that no matter who they are, where they do these heroic things, and what they do, that they exert the most tremendous effort in lifting themselves up from slumber, and in forcing of the body to move the dipper or shower head directly at their backs in the cold morning.

Anyone agree?

Eien

2007-11-21T21:58:00.000+08:00

I wish I could stop time, just to type in letters for the people who touched have my life so well enough to thank.

To Kim Lachica

2007-11-21T20:09:00.002+08:00

Why, hello there - you've known me for a while now. You know how much I've wanted to not grow up, not to change, tried to change, improve myself through the years, and suddenly creak into a steady halt, then rock a few seconds, and finally slip into depressing silence.

I've known you for a while now. You know that I've told you almost everything you need to know about who or what I am - I confide in you my secrets, my amusing conversations with other people, and thousands of dreams, from simple to extravagant. You know that I try to take into consideration almost everything before speaking out, unlike one tactless kid from before.

I have grown much from a child to an individual, and much of it is actually most thanks to you. How unfortunate some lessons like

someone we know who made a fool of me for two years

a sudden collapse in unspeakable things

were needed for me to change. I asked you once: How am I supposed to give a gift? For a few hours that day, I contemplated, and thought of trying to become a gentleman for that person. Why - I've actually started a plant out of the soil my mother cultivated.

Thankfully, you watered my stunted plant. How I wish someone - or something, would water the seedling once again for all these efforts of you, my friends, not to be put to waste as I branch into the endless sky, calling for the Lord.

110121: In retrospect, all this has become void after four years. Not only was I working with a delusion, but I wasn't honest with myself at all refusing to admit the truth that I was then stumped. Those days were filled with pretense.

Profile

2007-11-13T21:08:00.015+08:00

Waking up from a short snooze, I flicked the computer's power button, and quickly scanned through my profile's details.

Below my name, my age was located. It read:

14 y/o

"It's not the right time for me to change one digit yet", I told myself—not because I want to be of that age again, but 14 suddenly became an efficacious sign of taking the challenges that await me in my journey—leaving the hyperactive twelve–year–old, the unenlightened yet upset thirteen–year–old, and the learning fourteen–year–old behind—but never forgotten. It is as if I was never the three but am the three, and will still leave an impression on each one. My constant babble might not be contained by my weak mind, but my almost masked emotions tell me that I have only grown by kilometers.

Almost the same number of meters I have had on the road, leaping for the sidewalk—leaving notions on the minds of other people, bag slung on my shoulder—silently waiting for a harmless cataclysmic event to happen, searching for myself—walking.

110121: I'd have to service myself with the less–than–exquisite tastes my thought process has to offer me first.

110816: Ah, the naivety that comes with being young. Finding yourself isn't a terribly taxing process as the young might think it is. It's not so much distance or time. It's not college, even. It's reflection. If it's taken you kilometers, almost half your life, and a useless education until you have an epiphany in front of a mirror, remember the legwork and nonsense—what's that? You want some more?

Herb

2007-06-22T17:53:00.000+08:00

Lay off the rocks. They're bad for your health.

No matter how you try to spice Religion History up, you won't, will never get at least five pupils of yours not to sleep.

In my humble personal opinion, it's ten percent more boring than that of Literature, Reading, and English combined.

The good side about English class is that when the teacher starts to bombard you with a hundred more words per forty five seconds, you get to listen.

Oh boy, here she goes again.

Migraine

2007-06-12T10:41:00.000+08:00

Before I got into REM sleep, I woke myself up, took my migraine medicine, a mug of tea, and an apple.

What I was doing last night - I was desperately trying not to sleep. And now that I've finally fixed my body clock, disaster comes.

Looks like I'll have to sit down on my PC and get up when it's dusk.

If a very concerned teacher would ask me; what did you do this summer, I'd probably say 'video games', because that's just about two or so percent of what I did the most of this summertime.

And if you will ask why I'd say that, I'd probably tell you that I am still fixing my body clock, trying to get the fumes that are stuck in my sinuses, rid myself completely of chocolate, went on a tea diet, typed out some words, did some work, tried a summer course (and failed miserably), milked some cash and fattened myself.

I guess that would be the end of the 'what you did this summer' homework, since I just finished it.

Regarding the not-so-decent character make-ups I was getting for some people who were asking, they're not up yet. Those won't be up until about next week, or the next, because I'm sure about myself being lazy.

Today, as I close this window - Jorel says: You call Antipolo a mountain?

Suika

2007-05-03T11:58:00.000+08:00

After spending a beastly amount of time running before I get late - which would almost always happen, I crawled into the classroom, with everyone inside, of course
without Calel. These people don't know the pains of walking, running, or commuting to school. Of course they can't get late, until someone is just too lazy to even
sleep.

He approached us as if nothing happened anyway.

I couldn't comment that much during that time. If you know how busy you can get when you're doing last-minute homework, then we're friends.
Calel doesn't give a damn about my homework and our Katakana test though. Poor guy.

If I told him that we'd have a test, he'd probably just nod and laugh for no reason. Then he'll stare at the blackboard. Amusing myself with my ballpen, Flory-sensei did the honors for me.

"Okee guys, we'll have the quiz today, but before that we'll have a review of some things we left of last meeting", she started the class. Wait, did she just say quiz and not test?
You'd probably be laughing at my words now but it isn't the right time. Now is a good time to just quit reviewing like mad.

Soon, as if she had some mind-reading powers, she piped in with her usual "You guys okee"? Oh, yes we are! Feel free to torture us because we just moved our lazy fingers around during the whole weekend.
Of course we're not that surprised, though. In highschool, you must be prepared to receive mental assaults from teachers. For example, they choose 'test' as a word but mean short quiz.
How convenient, they showcase our endurance, until we just give up and swing the topic aimlessly for the next day and the next. Half absorbing the words, I couldn't help but
pardon our hard-working teacher, with her many Japanese Tutorial Sites which don't work most of the time because of forgetting the username or password or the retarded site won't bother
to let us learn anyway.

From sakura to watermelon prices and global warming, I couldn't help but stare into the window and think about the latter. Sure is hot, but not as much as the past week. There's a limit
to what Mother Nature can take, and I know this would be beyond it. I wouldn't be surprised if all the new sakura flowers burned like there won't be much left next time.

And so, I took time to doodle Doraemon, Nobita and Onizuka. Every single time I would be called, it's as if I just got from Alpha Centauri and I don't know how to use a bathroom.

Breaktime is something to look forward to, because only then would Doldenn and Calel be so damn talkative in the elevator and even play with it. Ah, as long as I'm not in my uniform, I'm all good.

Tanabata

2007-05-03T11:33:00.005+08:00

I don't know what I'd say about my life right now—everything is what I have wanted in the past, I can't wish for more.

The problem is that I want more. What are the things people want in their lives? Every boy would live simply but at the same time go for this sort of list.

Start writing these on the next Asian festival paper you get and hang it as a ticket on a bamboo shoot, men:

I want money.
I want an extremely great wife, if you know what I mean, Mr. Star.
I want a car.
I want a house with a dog which I could give a bath.
I want food.
I want a job.
I need drinking partners.
I want a derby house.

Hang those festival papers, men! We got money, extremely great wives, cars, houses with dogs you can bathe with, food, a job—we could share,
drinking partners, and a country with only derby houses in it.

In sixteen and twenty-three years time, when we're all old men.

Oh, and by the way, shoot this to Uranus:

I want fun.

Isn't it nice to dream? Peer into the telescope and see Mars doing the same.

Mesapotamia

2007-04-27T17:55:00.000+08:00

And just like that, Basic Nihongo Classes have begun. It doesn't feel much like basic, though. Why?

Because it was just as I expected. Why?

Doldenn the thing and Calel the thing there are there. Before I get into the details,
I'm here to explain the essense of why I call them 'thing' and 'thing there'. You see, I had a very relevant
question which I asked センセイ - sensei - please pardon my Katakana, I don't have internet to program my PC with Kanji
fonts you see.

コレ - kore - meaning 'this', used if the object is in your territory. ソレ - sore - meaning 'that', still in your small
territory, but much farther away from yourself.

You could now guess why I asked. The two are genius Mesapotamians. I'm sorry for giving Mesapotamia a bad name, by the way.

It was a funny thing, though - I came early even if I had no idea of the location of this fledgling class. The funnier thing is, センセイ
came late by what, five minutes? I even got to chat with the two orangutans and decifer their language.

For example, 'faulty' would be 4:30 PM. It sounds the same to me, though.

With the 'faulty' issue gone, センセイ came into the class, and briskly asked for my name - oh no, the Katakana version of my name.

Well, I had some experiences with Katakana, but that was what - four full years ago? And I was playing this handheld game:
Naruto RPG: Uketsugareshi Hi no Ishi.

Don't have a face like that. I was ten, you can't do anything about that now. Sorry for the 'English Romanization' stuff up there.
I don't have any Kanji programs here.

I'm having some problems with Katakana, and no problems with Hiragana. It's a good thing people usually use Hiragana instead of
Katakana. In case you were wondering, Hiragana and Katakana are two different and similar writing styles, while Kanji is a writing style
reportedly from China. The Kanji are quite hard to get used to, especially with keyboards on qwerty and dvorak.

Before you drift off to somewhere because of my teacher-talk, let me get back to the story. I got a really nice entrance from Doldenn -
he introduced me to the whole group - with Calel knowing me since I was Grade 2 or so.

For much of the time, we were given our first Hiragana and Katakana charts, complete with a photocopy of a Manga teaching
Nihongo, some greetings, school greetings, and more greetings.

We were told that we would have this quick quiz, which would actually scare the guts out of any lion - but not mine - tomorrow, though.

Adventure

2007-04-15T19:33:00.001+08:00

The adventure starts with a sip of a living cup of tea.

Ordinary

2007-04-15T19:31:00.001+08:00

This'll be the last of my depression - though it's all boring, here comes the sun to refresh the song in my heart.

Lyric Poem

2007-04-15T19:30:00.001+08:00

Though the season changes its colours
This feeling will never wither like a flower.

About

2006-05-14T14:42:00.001+08:00

“What's the funny all about?”

Carlo Legaspi
Computer Technology Teacher

These log entries were created by a dork. The same dork is male and is male though ‘he’ is referred to as an ‘it’. From this point onwards, the ‘it’ will be known to you, reader, as one with a terrible sense of humor and with traits mimicking recently viewed media's characters.

It should also be stressed that the name of ‘it’ is unimportant and must not be revealed if you do know who the ‘it’ is. et fail

The log is updated erratically in every single way. Its (not the dork, mind you) reconstruction is being considered by the poster as of the moment.