Bisaya. Finally Bisaya.
Ngano pa lisod lisudan man jud nako ako sarili ug iningles oi. Tapos pag magkamali, tirahon dayon ang mga wrong sfelling, ug wrong grammars.
Pero sa tinuod lang, mas lisod gud ang spelling sa Bisaya. Kanus a man ka mugamit ug O or U beh? Mao ang txt nato (SMS bah), gina short cut kay di man gud ta kabalo mo spelling.
Dali lang sya i istorya pero ambot lang kung tama ba ang grammar. I mean, wala man gud nato gi skwelahan ni, mao wala ta kabalo unsa ang sakto.
Kani na lang, wala man gani ko kabalo unsa ang grammar sa Bisaya.
Kabalo mo?
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
STORY ME
There are three sides to a story.
Their side.
My side.
And the truth.
One might be full of garnishing. Unnecessary fits of rage. Dumbfounding assumptions. Bullshit perceptions.
The other may chose the path of least resistance. That is, of a deafening silence.
Somewhere between the less convoluted part of the spectrum, lies the truth.
Unfortunately, the truth is seldom, if at all heard.
Because the truth has no voice of its own.
It manifest in rare apparitions, or as a variation of sorts, as the two sides struggle to paint in a canvass, the image of their liking.
No matter how the truth hurts, sucks, and/ or sets us free, good luck in our quest of finding one.
Because at the end of the day, we'll always believe what we want to believe.
Or whatever gets us through the night.
Their side.
My side.
And the truth.
One might be full of garnishing. Unnecessary fits of rage. Dumbfounding assumptions. Bullshit perceptions.
The other may chose the path of least resistance. That is, of a deafening silence.
Somewhere between the less convoluted part of the spectrum, lies the truth.
Unfortunately, the truth is seldom, if at all heard.
Because the truth has no voice of its own.
It manifest in rare apparitions, or as a variation of sorts, as the two sides struggle to paint in a canvass, the image of their liking.
No matter how the truth hurts, sucks, and/ or sets us free, good luck in our quest of finding one.
Because at the end of the day, we'll always believe what we want to believe.
Or whatever gets us through the night.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
WELCOME TO THE CHAMBER
This is not a travel blog.
But can you really escape travel?
Even if we are not in motion, we see time pass us by. In essence, as the clock tick, whether we do something productive, or just wasting gold, we travel.
Travel.
Growing up.
Getting old.
What are we doing? Where are we going? What have we become?
Quo Vadis?
But can you really escape travel?
Even if we are not in motion, we see time pass us by. In essence, as the clock tick, whether we do something productive, or just wasting gold, we travel.
Travel.
Growing up.
Getting old.
What are we doing? Where are we going? What have we become?
Quo Vadis?
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