Bottled ※ Brain

I can only surmise that this week will prove the hardest in this semester. On Friday, I have a practical exam in Physics 71.1 and in Arnis (PE 2). On Saturday, I have written exams in Physics 71.1, Physics 71, and Chem 16. People who read my blog frequently (if their existence could indeed be proven) would observe that I've been ranting about the unique difficulty of this semester . Maybe it's my new course. My classmates would say, "Ang layo naman ng pinanggalingan mo." They're right. From English Studies, I had taken a leap of faith to Molecular Biology. I sometimes comfort myself with the thought that the two courses are really related--the relation is just not conspicuous. The relation is that both courses use language. Hahaha. My adjustments, my pains, my joy, my disappointments, and my victories would make an interesting entry, but now is not the time to write about them.

The semester is coming to an end, but we know that during this time of the year, the exams will come rushing through us like giant waves, practically knocking us out of our wits! For those who do not have Christ, this is cause for great anxiety: how will I pass my exams? How do I get high grades so as not to get kicked out of my college? Will I be able to finish my requirements so I could pass them on time? These questions are not unsual at all. But as Christians we have a living hope, and that hope is written in Scriptures to encourage and remind us of the Lord's faithfulness in providing even for the simplest of our needs. Let's turn to Matthew 6: 25. THEREFORE I SAY TO YOU, DO NOT WORRY ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WHAT YOU WILL EAT OR WHAT YOU WILL DRINK, NOR ABOUT YOUR BODY, WHAT YOU WILL PUT ON. IS NOT LIFE MORE THAN FOOD AND THE BODY MORE THAN CLOTHING? Jesus went on to say that God even provides for the needs of the birds of the air, so how much more will He provide for our needs,

These are pictures taken during the Yakal Open House.

This is a short story I wrote which is inspired by the preaching of Pastor Bob last Sunday. I shall improve on this later on. So far, this is the draft. I hope you too will be blessed. About five hundred kilometers away, people were dying every minute as guns were fired and bombs were dropped. The young soldier named Mallinson, only in his seventeenth year, did not expect to see so many men with such careless hate, men willing to kill even the innocent to forward their wretched ideologies, so after sustaining a gunshot wound in his left arm, he knew that he would not live long. He had lost a great amount of blood, and the infection that occurred was almost incurable according to the doctors who treated him in the make-shift hospital ward. The pain he experienced was both physical and emotional, and it was something that no person could take lightly. Mallison was not an exception. The boy could practically see death coming towards him, but he would not succumb to it because he felt a ne

I had to see the UAAP Cheerleading Championships at the Araneta Coliseum to cover up for my pentiful absences in PE. Ms. Peneyra, my kind arnis instructor, will give incentives--like erasing some absences from her record--to those who'd be watching the competition. Besides, it's a yearly event that every loyal UP student looks forward to. "So why have you been absent anyway?" you may ask. Let me answer that question. You see, Physics 71.1 (the laboratory part) is every Friday from 2 to 4pm. Our classes are held at the new building of the National Insitute of Physics near Katipunan road. My arnis class is scheduled every Tuesday and FRIDAY at the UP Vanguard Building where you can overlook the Commonwealth Avenue. The University of the Philippines is a horribly big campus (400-something hectares), mind you, and it is this very reason that has led to the compounding of my absences: it takes me 15 to 20 minutes to hop from one building to another through the Toki jeeps w

Just a few months ago--February 12 to be exact--I had my first dose of what they deem to be the most exciting part of a UP dormitory life, the yearly Open House (at least, it was yearly in Kalayaan). It's an event that all dormers look forward to because, once in a blue moon, outsiders (the dorm jargon for non-dormers)get the chance to enter the otherwise locked doors of the residence halls. Now that I'm in Yakal Residence Hall, the experience takes a different beat. The reason why I'm writing about dormitories and open houses must have been made evident already, dear readers (if you do exist). It's Yakal's Open House today. And I've been out of the hall all day, in the wide expanse of the campus, listening to lectures, wondering at times when I'd be back home to celebrate with my dormmates.

At last. Food. Real food. Shean (a high school classmate studying in UP) and I have just arrived from Rowena's birthday party in Cubao. The party and the people made me feel as if I were in Koronadal, my home sweet home a thousand miles away, because almost everyone spoke Ilonggo, that charming, familiar vernacular, and the atmosphere was so, uhm, "home-ly" that somehow I had a hard time reconciling conflicting thoughts: I studying in molecular biology and I eating tuna from General Santos. I saw familair faces in the party. Rowena's mother, for one, told us too many things about KN (which is Koronadal National Comprehensive High School--my high school), and how things are changing so fast there. It was bliss to forget that I still have a class tomorrow, to pretend that I'm in Koronadal, to talk to familiar faces, to hear wonderful news from home, and to eat until my stomach hurt.

My Chem Lab classmates, a few minutes ago, have been too optimistic to hear an announcement that classes for today would be postponed. In my mind, I thought, "Why not?" There was practically no jeepney in sight--the drivers went on a transport strike, I was told, to show their protest against the ever-increasing oil prices (I mean, what else is new?). My classmates--Vienna, Don, Princess, and most of them--were busy discussing how they were going home; commuting was the only means, so how were they to do that without jeepneys? The announcement came, of course, otherwise I wouldn't be here to write this entry. We were too ecstatic--Rachel was shouting her vocal cords out, especially when we heard that Sir Acy Yago passed the Chemistry Board Exams with flying colors. Tenth placer. I wasn't really surprised. Si Sir Acy pa? Congratulations, Sir.

Sunday afternoons in the University of the Philippines (UP) have something different in them--a lazy quality perhaps--that makes people want to doze off for a few hours. Sleeping is utterly irrestistible, but there are times when you've got to oppose the urge to "drift away" especially when you have exams the next day. By God's grace, I will most certainly enjoy this time of sleep. UP does look wonderful, even under the heat of the scorching Philippine sun. Why I said that, I don't know, but one thing's for sure: to live in a forested area like UP campus is, in effect, a far better privilege than to inhabit polluted places like Philcoa (which, by the way, is still in UP). And so, dear readers (if you do exist), excuse me for I shall now sleep.

I still couldn't believe my ears whenever I hear people around me say, "Yey! Patapos na naman ang sem." For one, I still have lots of things to do before that; second, my mother told my brother and I that we will not go home to Marbel during the break; third, I couldn't feel it in the air. Time just flies so fast, don't you think? And the more you think about it, the more you get baffled by what you've done with your life. I, for one, ask myself questions like, "What have I accomplished this sem? What do I need to improve on?" I don't know...my thoughts just drift from place to place, so forgive me, dear readers (I sometimes wonder if I'm the only person reading my blog--if that's the case, it's perfectly okay with me), if you couldn't get something important in this entry. I can only sigh a sigh of relief whenever I hear people sighing like the way I do.

Today I’ve learned another lesson—in a way, it’s a reminder—and the more I think about it, the more beautiful it becomes. I studied hard last night in preparation for my math exam, the fourth one. I spent quite a few hours studying it—I started at 4:00 in the afternoon and ended at 30 minutes past midnight. Don’t get mistaken: I had breaks in between, for meals, for bathing, for tooth brushing . . . need I elaborate? But the fact is, I’ve studied. Hard. I woke up at 5 am the next morning. I knew I had to be early so as to salvage the time: Sir Vry comes quite early during exam time and I knew I couldn’t waste even the extra 15 minutes, a bonus for people who come early. I walked all the way to Math Building (from Yakal) because there was no Toki jeep in sight. It was still too early that everything still felt sleepy. Still I charged on. And then the exam… When I browsed through each of the questions, I said, “Thank you, Lord. It looks easy.” It really did look easy…I knew I had studied

The clock read 1:03. His gasping was the only sound that could be heard, for everything seemed at peace at this very wee hour of the morning. He sat on his bed…his night clothes soaked with cold sweat; his palms were moist. The dream was too vivid that his mind replayed it over and over again. The reality of the dream was too tangible for imagination. * * * There he was, holding hands with a seemingly-innocent girl. He felt something else…something utterly indescribable that made him feel as though he was doing wrong, that he was offending someone. It was an uneasy feeling, and he wanted to tell the girl about it, but he couldn’t muster enough strength to do it. He didn’t want to be branded a coward. “Let’s do it…” The girl motioned him to come inside a room. She clutched his hands, now cold and sweaty; she had this power to command him to do everything she wanted him to, and though he hated it, he couldn’t do much but give in. They spent a hour and a half inside the room, and when the

Dr. Butch Dalisay, member of the distinguished faculty of the Department of English and Comparative Literature of UP's College of Arts and Letters, writes this interesting piece about UPCAT, his pride in having passed it eons ago, and his thoughts on the current circumstances in the University. Excellence and equity, revisited PENMAN By Butch Dalisay The Philippine STAR 08/29/2005 My recent piece on my mom remin-ded me that it was she – a 1956 BSE graduate – who brainwashed me very early on about the absolute necessity of getting into UP if I was to be worth anything in my adulthood. She managed this by the simple expedient of playing a 78 rpm record of Push On, UP! – flipsided by UP Beloved – on our phonograph for what seemed to me like morning, noon, and night, even before I was old enough to tie my shoelaces. Soon I was playing the record myself, oblivious to its lyrics but happily agitated by the perkiness of the fight song. And there were, of course, the 1948 UP Highlights Yea

This is an email I sent to friends on November 8, 2004. I was just reminded of how faithful the Lord truly is—day in or day out. I hope you too will be reminded of that precious truth. It is finished.For three agonizing days, I have been enrolling. For students in other schools, this must be an exaggeration; here in UP, it is as normal asseeing protesters demanding for Gloria's resignation. For three days, I have lined up for queues just to get the subjects that would interest me. These queues are long; the processing ofdocuments and the like is so slow you'd wonder if there's progress at all. For three days, I have rushed to and fro the large, wide campus that is Diliman. There's always the adrenaline rush when I hear that subjects are still open for pre-enlistment. "Saan? May open pa bad'un?" "Ilan pa ba ang available?" "Magpe-petition ba kayo for EnviSci?" Oblivious to everything else, I would follow the flow of people; again, linin

I have sore throat, and unless you were born in another galaxy, you’d be able to relate to this wretched pain I’m going through. There’s one thing I’d like to say: second to toothache, a sore throat is the worst physical pain practically all humans normally experience. Okay, so maybe that’s not as painful as, say, having a brain tumor or having your right limb cut off—just like that beautiful character, Sophie, in Kill Bill 1—but you do get my point: the pain is unnerving, intolerable, and  almost omnipresent; it has to be cured immediately. I called up home to ask what to do. Tatay told me to gargle hot water with rock salt. I did just that, and the pain subsided, albeit for a while, but it came back after a few hours. My friend, Paul, told me to buy Deflam (like Strepsils) because, he says, his mother once had sore throat, and that product was so effective that she was immediately cured. Once in a while, I still dissolve Strepsil candies in my mouth. This has led me to learn the foll