Destructive Mining in Opol

Mining in the Philippines should be stopped due to its dangerous effects to the environment and indigenous communities. The DENR and its attached agencies virtually committed grave abuse of power when they issued permits and tenements to mining firms. Most of the mining firms also encroach mostly on the marginal farmers and ancestral lands(Yutang Gisaad) knowing that it would harm the environment.

Let’s help save our remaining forests. Climate Justice, Life for all.. Act now!

- Bahanding Kinaiyahan, Nature Inc., and NCPF

Ato ipakita atong pagsupporta sa “NO TO MINING” by joining the hearing this January 26, 2012. 9:00am at Court of appeals (YMCA Bldg., Julio Pacana Street, Cagayan de Oro City)

Articles about this issue:

https://www.facebook.com/notes/bob-ocio/mr-president-political-will-starts-with-you-oro-officials-must-go-including-your/10150502133944405

http://www.columbanmission.net/when.html

News about this issue:

http://www.goldstardailynews.com/northern-mindanao-x/7677-rufus-to-city-hall-stop-mining-now.html

http://www.businessmirror.com.ph/home/regions/14923-ngos-zamboanga-folk-file-writ-of-kalikasan-vs-mining-firms

http://no2mininginpalawan.com/2011/09/14/denr-against-total-stoppage-of-mining-in-zambo-peninsula/

by Girlie Gualberto-Suan

The Filipinos have many admirable traits. Noteworthy of these is our unsinkable spirit in the face of sufferring and defeat. We have a strong survival instinct. But the outstanding virtue which we are extremely proud of is our Bayanihan spirit. The Bayanihan virtue is exemplified by our desire to help people in need, even at the cost of our own selves. Centuries of Christian influence and a culture of religiosity has marked us a God- molded country.

From the trials of Sendong came forth the true treasures of Cagayanons- their golden hearts. These are hearts burnished with the gold charity and generosity. From the mud of affliction bloomed the flower of affection. We joined hands as a unified source, carrying those who have fallen, forgetting our own pain in response to the greater need of another. It was a sterling moment for Filipinos, and a crowning glory for Cagayanons in particluar.

Alas, how quickly the sweet fragrance of brotherhood is blown away by the putrid stench of divisiveness and discontent. How fragile is the vigor of noble hearts when bullied by the muscle f disruptive minds.

After the initial euphoric and heroic display of unity, our famous crab mentality raised its deadly claws. Instead of progressing into the second phase of crisis management which is to repair, rebuild and rehabilitate, we have deteriorated into the phase of blame-shifting, finger-pointing and mud-slinging.

What can be gained by tearing down people, heaping blame on local leadership, and generally turning into a lynch mob? Our leaders are not magicians and fortune tellers. Let us uphold principles over personalities.

The goodwill we have gained should not be carelessly squandered away by vicious words and sinister schemes. In time of crisis, it is callous to precitipitate another crisis of  a political nature. This is the time to build not destroy. to unite not divide, to heal not to hurt.

We have face another inconvenient truth that not the mayor, not the president, not PAG-ASA, not even the 90 million Filipinos can halt the ominous onslaught of natural disasters. The collective effort of the entire human race is needed to prevent the threatening climate change catastrophe. This requires centuries of untiring, relentless, unselfish dedication to save our dying planet. It demands that our hearts be purged of the sins of greed, avarice and selfishness. It calls to obedience to the time-honored laws written in stone, and to reacquaint ourselves with the Give of those Laws.

Unless we come back to God on bended kness and acknowledge Him as the TRUE RULER of the universe, this sick planet will never get well, and life as we know it will be a living hell.

I researched about it and how each one is made and what they are for and I found out how critical and risky getting yourself into making gas cylinders is. There are a couple of types of high pressured gas cylinders out there but to name a few, there’s nitrogen cylinder, medical gas cylinder, oxygen tanks (bottles), and our daily kitchen best friend, the LPG or the liquefied petroleum gas.

If you plan on acquiring one type of gas bottle that you need for your residence or office, please do check on the cylinder size and type of each item that you will acquire first because those are the key topics that might cost price differences and each design has different rates. So when you decide to purchase one in the near future, think of these.

There are still a lot of important things that one should know when acquiring or even having one already. There are safety tips that one should consider. One should always bear in mind that these bottles are pressurized, so this will explode if not taken care of the right way. I’ll write about the safety tips soon.

The red carpet fashion, or the mainstream fashion, is without a doubt THE bahws! But here is something that has caught my attention ever since, the look I kind of like the most, and that is street fashion.

From what I know there are a few categories under this, they are:

1. the hippie look – a mix of denim, T-shirts, long hair, flower power and psychedelic imagery, flared trousers
2. teddy boys – drape jackets, drainpipe trousers, crepe shoes
3. hip hop fashion – 501 Levis, ECKO, South Pole, Avirex, Sean Jean, NIKE
4. punk fashion – ripped clothing, safety pins, bondage, provocative T-shirt slogans, Mohican hairstyle
5. gothic fashion – black clothing, heavy coats, poet shirts, big boots, makeup
6. skinheads – short-cropped hair, fitted jeans, Ben Sherman button-up shirts, Fred Perry polo shirts, Harrington jackets, Dr. Martens boots

Among the street fashion stated above, I have had my eye on the hippie look which I have been trying to mix and match with ever since, but never really had that much time to shop around for or really look into hippie clothes and its how-to’s. I love its flower power theme, the colourful designs, and the “natural” look as I was told way back. Hippie skirts, denims, leathers, and even just wearing your hair down makes the look – look good. You can wear it casually or even tweak it to look formal. Hippie clothes are my kind of look.

]]> http://sanasanz.com/2011/12/27/that-kind-of-look/feed/ 0 http://sanasanz.com/2011/11/29/definitely-getting-him-a-rabbit/ http://sanasanz.com/2011/11/29/definitely-getting-him-a-rabbit/#comments Mon, 28 Nov 2011 19:45:03 +0000 SaNz http://sanasanz.com/?p=1288 The love of my life is growing up pretty fast and he has been pretty curious about a whole lot of stuffs. Be it things, people, animals, and even the plants and views that are all around him. With that, I’ve decided to feed his curiosity so he gets curios even more. That way he gets to learn and understand things quickly without me shoving the spoon to him.

Part 1:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kipUZIsuoU&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

Part 2:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8v3L_zA66xY&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

Part 3:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZhxpVkMqpw&feature=mfu_in_order&list=UL

This version is cut into 19 parts.. Just follow the sequence, it’s in descending order Click this for the actual account: http://www.youtube.com/user/shkonie

Word for today: Overflow

Click Here for the definition/s of the word from Google.

Overflow in Bisaya : apaw (v.); awas (v.); banaw (n.); lagnas (v.); lanap (n.); lanapan (v.)

It started with a longing glance.

You always had a thing for brooding and mysterious souls. You were reviewing for Criminal Law in the school cafeteria when you noticed him staring at you. He was at the other table reading a magazine on Psychology (of all things). He was wearing a gray sweater and stone-washed jeans. You try your best not to be fazed by his visual assault, so you continue memorizing your mnemonics while you pleaded to the heavens to have a good recit day. As you were about to finish the annotations on Estafa, you noticed him standing up and about to leave.

“Wait! Don’t go just yet! I wanna get to know you. You intrigue me.”

That was what you wanted to tell him but just like any typical and conservative Filipino woman, you exercised the art of self-restraint and kept to yourself. As he was walking out the door, you look at him for one last time. He briefly glances at you. And like a skillful artist you flip your hair and give him that well-rehearsed shy but sweet smile. (A skill you have mastered since you discovered that it disarms men and leaves them off-guard). You could see from the reaction on his face that he was pleasantly surprised. And as they say, the rest was history.

He was a fair man. No initial physical attraction. He was neither dashing nor debonair. Not that he was unfortunate looking or anything. He just did not fall within the mental list of ‘qualifications’ you have long crafted in your head since you were twelve. You wanted to marry a rock star or an artist. Either that or a business mogul. Nothing in his appearance reflected those set of ‘qualifications’. He was an ordinary bloke.  But boy oh boy, did you fall ever so quickly. He was witty and quick to think on his feet. In him you saw a charm you have long been searching for in a man. The two of you had a wavelength that was made for bestselling romance novels and Hollywood movies.

You were not each other’s mirror, but together you were each other’s opium- ready to nourish, intoxicated by each other’s touch, and tongue and taste.

But somehow, things got awry. Souls were shattered. You realized that you were simply each other’s convenience store – ready for the taking, always consuming everything.

On the third month of exclusivity, the dates became less and less frequent. He always had an excuse for not spending time with you. And so you pored over legal provisions. The study of law and painting became your outlet.

Most men never initiate a break-up because they believe it is the more chivalrous thing to do. They will always wait for the woman to grow tired of them until she finally decides to end the relationship, be it exclusive or otherwise. But that is not chivalry. Sweeping things under the rug is perhaps the most cowardly thing a guy could do in a relationship. As you instigated the obvious, you decided to salvage the friendship. A thing you have never done with your other exes.

Barely a week after the pseudo-breakup, you saw him on a date with another woman. They were waiting in line to watch 500 Days of Summer. Suddenly, the lyrics to an Alanis Morissette song popped in your head, “Another version of me eh, Mr. Duplicity? It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced. Coz the love that you gave that we made wasn’t enough for you to be open-wide.”

At that very moment, everything he said to you was nullified.

“You know how I believe in God? It’s because of people like you.”

“But I’m just a spectator and you are the player in this game called ‘your life’. I am not allowed to enter the game, but I’m allowed to cheer from the ring side. I can feel the blows you receive. I can feel the joys of your momentary success. It’s because I placed a bet on your victory the moment we became friends.”

“There is nothing you can say to me that can ever make you lose me.”

You pretended not to see what happened. But you drove home with a bag full of regret and nausea.

You have always believed that there is a thin line between decency and hostility. The former was always the general rule. You always took it upon yourself to be at peace with everyone. But how will one know when enough is enough? Respect and decorum are always a required minimum and when the two are breached, something’s gotta give.

The very first travesty incurred was during a birthday celebration of a mutual friend. It was a scene of revelry and merry-making that ended in utter shock, when he and his new flavor of the month, French-kissed right in front of you. That was perhaps the longest five seconds of your life. But you took the high road of decency. That was the very first death he inflicted upon you. It was an unlawful aggression, so to speak. You deserved the right to defend your honor and make a scene in front of everyone. In your head, you were already throwing beer bottles at the two of them, ramming their heads against a wall. But you decided to plead the fifth (amendment). You remained quiet and pristine.

Notwithstanding that attitude of forbearance, he accused you of not being gracious under pressure. How wrong he was of you and how wrong you were of him. No, you don’t miss him. You miss the person he pretended to be.

A month passed and you found him running back to you and asking for forgiveness for that ‘dual allegiance’. And so the two of you decide to meet in your favorite nook. That café near school which serves flavored beer for less than fifty bucks and where Buddha was a permanent fixture.

You order the cheapest beverage around, brewed coffee – short in a tall, half decaf with frozen nonfat milk and two splendas. I guess that’s how you always were. Meticulous and wanting everything to be within your grasp and control. How badly you wanted him to be that cup of Joe – to be easily manipulated into loving you, abandoning his reason, abnegating all the pain from his past.

As you stir your coffee, you rehearse the very lines you were meant to utter to break his pride and to open his heart.

“I miss you. I miss us.”

“I was happy without you. But I was happiest whenever I was with you.”

“Ours will always be a never-ending story. For our chemistry will always be our poetry.”

Because we cannot help ourselves from thinking. So we draw and write fairy tales in our heads, and convince ourselves that he’s the one. But no, life is not a fairytale and we are not part of the Disney franchise.

He arrived with a casual grin and a nonchalant pose. His eyes that once reflected kindness now bore of detachment and apathy.

“It’s cold in here. Oh, it must be your heart,” you wanted to tell him but decided to keep it to yourself.

But decorum failed you that day. Long-held resentment began to flow through bitter words you thought you never had. “You know what your problem is? You never tell me anything, which hurt to the point that I can no longer bear.”

He snapped, “And I guess your problem is you say too much to the point that you make sure your words sting and leave a mark.”

“You know what’s worse than a jerk, David? It’s someone who pretends to be a good guy but who’s truly not. That is what you are. I don’t want anything to do with you, you spineless prick.”

And just like that, the proud face he always wore tore open and revealed that of a little boy, alone and afraid. He broke.

“You’re right, Talitha. I’m worse than a jerk. And I’m not a good person.”

“You made me realize something. Maybe that’s what keeps me depressed since my college days. I want to think I’m a good person. That I’m ok but the truth is, I’m not. I want to think I’m brave but I’m a coward. I want to think I’ m friendly but I’m an asshole. I’m just for show. Magaling lang akong makisama pero plastic ako.”

“The truth is, I hate myself. I cried so hard back when I was in high school. And I’m doing it again. I hate myself so much. I hate myself. And I never told anyone about this. I want everybody to love me because I don’t love myself.”

“I’m so full of inconsistencies. That’s probably why I was intimidated with you before because I was afraid you might see that flaw in me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to win you back. But I hope that you keep everything you’ve discovered about me to yourself. “

And before you could utter a word he said, “Sorry. You just hit a spot that I have long forgotten. And you shouldn’t be sorry. Somehow, I knew that it would end like this.”

And just like that, he left without even looking back. You suddenly found yourself puzzled, not sure if he deserved those words that triggered that long-forgotten pain of his. Perhaps, pain is a universal disorder.

II

One of the disadvantages (or advantages, depending on how one sees it) of being part of a small school is how quickly rumors spread like wildfire. You got hold of news that David was seen leaving a motel with one of your best friends in law school. A feeling of betrayal seeped through your veins. Out of passion and obfuscation, you texted obscenities and cursed the very day he was born.

Somebody should give him an award for Best Actor. For everything between the two of you was a lie. A sham. A fraud. Estafa.

Because your very wound spans back from that first contract: the meeting of the minds between body and soul, your flesh with his. But all things considered, you were to him voidable, dispensable. He trampled on your heart, instead of resuscitating it. The very soul you thought would be your lifeboat ended up drowning you.

In our story, we always see ourselves as the good guy, the protagonist, the victim, the damsel in distress, the underdog. We are neither antagonist nor the tormentor. Because we always find reasons to justify our pain in order to validate our actions. We will always convince ourselves that we deserve a taste of vindication and that our enemies are ripe for the killing (not literally of course. OR literally for the criminal minds).

We defensively whisper in our heads, “It’s my biography, I’ll write the pages of my life the way I see it.”

He texted back, “I don’t want to talk to you. I am not accountable for anything. Not to you. Not to anyone. We should just do the thing that makes us happy.”

You became angrier at yourself than with him. You punished yourself with booze and nicotine. You punished yourself by drowning. You hate yourself for not seeing it earlier on. For not seeing him for who he really is. But how can you have found out the real him if he does not even know his true self?

You found yourself driving in the city at dusk without any destination. Soul-searching and asking yourself if life is still worth living despite the maddening pain. Sleep became elusive and so you decided to go to your favorite café.

You sat outside the café and stared at the stars. The sight of it prompted you to write in your journal:

“The weather is gloomy. A reflection of my heart as the cloud perspires its sullen thoughts in drizzles and fog. How it carefully mirrors my pain. The departed monsoon is finally returning. To redeem or to withhold, I do not know. How I wish I could drain myself of fluid expectations of drowning.”

You stare at every single thing on display around you. The children playing in the fountain; your favorite acacia tree with its artful branches complementing the melancholy of the night; the coffee you slowly sipped; the couple sitting on the other table drinking strawberry beer and how their laughter and joy seemed to mock your hidden pain. And then it hit you. Every single motion, movement and action – every single thing reminded you of the days spent with him.

The children playing reminded you of how he used to tell stories about his childhood ever so fondly. And how amused you were of the provincial adventures he had as a kid, which you wished you had growing up in an urbane neighborhood.

The coffee reminded you of the many nights you spent in this very café on study dates and/ or casual dates, discussing nothing and everything. From the mundane to the deeper intricacies of life. The happy couple reminded you of the good times you shared and your first date in Tagaytay, over bottles of beer. You remembered how the alcohol you gulped seemed to warm your body during that almost impossibly cool weather during those –Ber months. But more than anything, his words and the wavelength you shared brought warmth to your cold soul.

Heartbreak is a pathetically funny thing. It can lead to either over-protection or promiscuity. The pain-seared individual begins to erect walls to avoid heartache. He fears intimacy and commitment. That or a life of promiscuity built on having casual fun with people without much regard to the repercussions. A life committed to pleasure.

You have become bipolar in your ways, becoming overly-protective and yet promiscuous. You never fully understood what you wanted.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts and memories, a familiar voice called out your name out of nowhere.

“Talitha!”

You notice a woman from afar in a pink floral dress with a teethy smile on her face.

As she was approaching, you realize that it’s your good friend, Estella. The two of you do the obligatory beso and small talk. Then she interjects, “Girl, what’s wrong? I notice that your aura is not well. Are you ok?”

As if on cue, your eyes, which for the longest time rallied not to proceed with the necessary waterworks resigned to fate and let the tears fall like dying petals. You told her everything. “I’m glad you’re here. I have kept this to myself for weeks and I have become such a wreck. Good thing you’re here. You’ve always been level-headed when it comes to these things.”

She assumed a pensive form, put her hand in yours, and gently spoke the words you’ve needed to hear but always rejected, “It’s not your fault. These things happen. We all feel the need to be validated. To feel loved. And even I am not immune to this. Sometimes, I just want to be with a man, even for the flimsiest reason of going out for movie and dinner.

“I remember what you texted to me a few days ago. That you finally decided to abnegate your will and let the Divine do its work in this area of your life. Perhaps, this is an answer to your prayer. I know you’ve been dreading this for the longest time. You were afraid of surrendering your will to Him for this very reason. That He will answer your prayer but not in the way you wanted.”

And then it dawned on you. It is not love if the man is driving you further and further away from the truth. He has written the very essence of your groaning. He has brought out the worst in you.

She added, “You need to forgive him. And more than anything, you need to forgive yourself. It is not your fault that you were abused. It is not your fault that you were treated as damaged goods. And there is nothing you can change to make a man love you even more or even less. It is not the way you dress, the way you wear your makeup, the way you speak. You do not need a boob job to get the man you want. Because the right man will love you to the core of your very being. He will peel every layer ever so gently until you are ready to reveal the real you hidden in that mask of shame, insecurity and abandonment. He will love you unconditionally.”

“All women deserve a happy ending. If not, a decent farewell. But the reality is, we live in a dying and decaying world full of imperfect people. Talitha, you made this person your whole world that you forgot the truth that no man can ever fill that void within you. Negative One plus Negative One does not result to Two. An imperfect being can never satisfy or complete another imperfect soul.”

“But what should I do? The pain is overwhelmingly real. I feel more broken than ever. “

“Run to God, Talitha. I’ve told you my story before, right? I had to die to myself first before I can truly live.”

“Mark this experience as a blessing in disguise. The end of a chapter and look forward to the unfolding of a new season in your life. And remember, life is not managed by our emotions. It is not dictated by the lies we exhale from our covetousness.”

“Thank you so much, Estella. You are an angel.”

“I’m always here for you. And let the pain be your muse. “ Estella said, as she looked at her watch.

“Dear, as much as I want to stay, I have to head to Cibo for a family dinner. If you need anything, just text me ok?”

You nodded and smiled. Her compassion never failed to uplift you.

After finishing your cup of Joe, you took that earthy brown tissue paper bearing the café’s name. There you wrote the final journal entry to the David Madness:

“To David,

Here’s to us. And even though we did not reach the finish line, we were bound to cross each other’s paths and be each other’s beacon of light. You have been the reliever of my torch whenever I stumbled or failed to run a steady line.

I have removed every inch of bitterness and anger hanging on my sleeve.

I have loved you through and through, with every fiber of my being. Or so I thought. I realized that you were just a challenge. A pill for my pride which ached for material consummation. The covetousness was disguised as unconditional love and the want was covered as need.

To my muse and our caffeinated epiphanies, and the countless nights we spent counting stars and drinking coffee as if it were our very savior.

Old wounds.

New wounds.

One soul.

Multiple deaths.

The day you told me to die, was the day I finally woke up.”

You stood up and tore the tissue into small pieces. Tossed it in the fountain where the children were playing and left.

So there’s this wonderful person that I knew… He was just someone I day dreamt about… Time came and this day dream came true without even looking for it… As time passed, I realized he was the answer to a very old heartfelt prayer talk with God a couple of years back… So, I stayed a little longer… I wanted to experience the feeling of how it was to have an answered prayer again… It was breathtakingly awesome! Indescribable…This was the second time in my entire life that something I prayed for and hoped for actually happened… But then, like the saying goes ‘be careful what you pray for’…there was something I left out to pray. It was hard… real hard… but I knew it was all meant to happen… I fell, I did things I couldn’t ever imagine myself doing, even questioned my own used-to-be beliefs… yeah, THAT hard… I got really broken too…seriously crushed into pieces that I didn’t want to see anyone or do anything for months. But still, I wanted to stay a little longer…friends started questioning my judgements… it, the feeling of being in that huge bubble, was like a drug that I couldn’t get enough of… yup, still here floating inside the bubble…I’m growing and learning here though, about a whole lot of things, with him, with the experiences along the way… But, like any other bubble, I do not know when this will burst. I’m just taking a leap of faith…with a whole lot of patience, understanding, immunity, fidelity, numbness, and you-think-I-don’t-mind-but-it-hurts look and reactions…and the root of all this, is, I dunno…Love? Imagine what a single text, call, smile, look, hug, or some love from him would do… I feel like my whole world would just stop! Yes, that intense that I write about it now… and I do not write much about experiences. Not like this. But, there’s another thing, this downside, a significant painful pull that I know I couldn’t match, his feelings for this other person ….. Oh God, am I supposed to stay a little bit longer?

I wonder if I should be sorry that I fell for him when he hugged me tight and kissed me on the cheek the day we saw each other again? Should I be sorry that I thought we had a chance at love? I’m sorry, but I’m just confused, I didn’t make the first move, he did.

Sincerely,

Confused Gay

Mommy Dharlz, a fellow CDOBlogger wishes for her best friend, Donna, to see the world without necessarily leaving home. Donna is currently fighting cancer and immobile. All we ask is to make ‘A Thousand Postcards for Donna’ possible. We ask friends from all over the Philippines and the world to send her a postcard with some words of encouragement…

I wish to bring a smile on Donna’s face, I wish you would too… a thousand postcards for Donna will go a long way towards her healing…

Thank you, and God bless!

Read about the full story here.

If you want to know Donna’s address and make ‘a thousand postcards for Donna‘ possible, email Mommy Dharlz: mommydharlz@darlingaguilar.com

He is changing before my eyes but his skin is still like a baby’s.
We still need the gentle care of JOHNSON’s Baby Milk Bath,
with Vitamins A&E and 100% more milk proteins to nourish developing skin.

Zaza here was helping me with the laundry. I took a photo of this event because I wanted to remember what he did, he offered me help. Thanks love. I really think it was so sweet of him… I saw he’s being sensitive and understanding to everything that was happening around that time. I was nursing the flu then and I had so much chores to do, so I asked him what he wanted to do for the meantime so I could do what I needed to take care of. He then answered that he wanted to watch a movie, so I prepared the movie and did the chores… A few minutes later, he comes in and says he wanted to help me, when asked why he said because I was sick and I might feel really tired.

What do you think is the best caption for this photo? Best title gets a prize from Johnson’s too – that’s if I win. hehehe

COMMENT ON THE BLOG ENTRIES TO WIN A JOHNSON’S BABY GIFT PACK!

Mechanics:

1. Like Johnson’s Baby World of First Facebook page. Click Here
2. Comment by giving your own title to the first photo. The more creative and relevant the title-comment, the bigger chances of winning.
3. The winner will be based on the following criteria:
Creativity of Title: 50%
- Cuteness of the Title
- Unique play of Words
Relevance to article: 50%
Note: Only comments from October 8 to October 21, 2011 are valid to win the gift pack.

Please take note that comments SHOULD be done on the blog post’s page not on the Facebook wall. Thanks!

Pilipinas, Tara Na! v.1

Words by: Rene Nieva

Composed by: Mike Villegas and Rico Blanco

Arranged by: Angelo Villegas

Ikaw ba’y nalulungkot

Naiinip, nababagot

Ikaw ba’y napapagod

Araw gabi’y puro kayod?

Buhay mo ba’y walang saysay

Walang sigla, walang kulay?

Bawa’t araw ba’y pareho

Parang walang pagbabago?

Tara na, biyahe tayo

Kasama ang pamilya

Barkada at buong grupo

Para mag-enjoy ng todo.

Halika, biyahe tayo

Nang ating makita

Ang ganda ng Pilipinas

Ang galing ng Pilipino.

Nag-driving ka na ba

Sa mga bayan sa baybay

Ng buong Laguna de Bay

Tuloy-tuloy sa Tagaytay?

Nalasap mo na ba

Ang Lanzones ng Camiguin

Penoy balot ng Pateros

Ensaymada ng Malolos?

Tara na, biyahe tayo

Upang ating matanto

Tayo man ay iba-iba

Diwa’t puso ay iisa

Halika, biyahe tayo

Nang ating makita

Ang ganda ng Pilipinas

Ang galing ng Pilipino.

RAP:

Mga kababayan, ating puntahan,

Dambana ng kadakilaan at kagitingan

Fort Santiago, Kawit, Mactan

Barasoain, Corregidor at Bataan.

Nag-shopping ka na ba

Sa malls ng Metro ManilaNaka-bargain sa Baclaran

Greenhills at Divisoria?

Nakapag-uwi ka na ba

Ng perlas mula Sulu

World-class shoes from Marikina

Abaca bags from Bicolandia?

Tara na, biyahe tayo

Nang makabili

Ng maganda at murang-mura

Gawa ng kapwa-Pilipino.

Halika, biyahe tayo

Nang ating makita

Ang ganda ng Pilipinas

Ang galing ng Pilipino.

Nakisaya ka na ba

Sa Pahiyas at Masskara

Moriones at Ati-atihan

Sinulog at Kadayawan?

Namiesta ka na ba

Sa Penafrancia sa Naga

Umakyat sa Antipolo

Nagsayaw sa Obando?

Tara na, biyahe tayo

Upang ating matamo

Ligaya at pagkakaibigan

Kaunlaran, kapayapaan.

Halika, biyahe tayo

Nang ating makita

Ang ganda ng Pilipinas

Ang galing ng Pilipino.

Tara na, biyahe tayo

Upang ating matamo

Ligaya at pagkakaibigan

Kaunlaran, kapayapaan.

Halika, biyahe tayo

Nang ating makita

Ang ganda ng Pilipinas

Ang galing  ng Pilipino.

This is the first of three versions of the Department of Tourism’s (DoT) “Pilipinas, Tara Na!” song and music video. Check out the campaign’s official Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/PilipinasTaraNa

Huwag maging dayuhan sa sariling bayan.

The god of this world has tarnished this feeling with envy, pride, cynicism, lust, doubt, self pity a whole lot of other rubbish. Straight or gay, the anatomy is the same! I am not a disbeliever of love. I know what true love is.

John 15:13 (New International Version)
Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.

I am not saying that romance is bad. I am saying that romance is ephemeral. The growing trend of a me-first-satisfy-all-my-desires attitude has lead to relationships that are superficial, transitory and ultimately unsatisfying. Romance does not equate love.

But, why should I miss such feeling when such feeling has trapped me? I guess, i yearn that one day, such feeling will be made right in God’s standard and in God’s time.

Good thing I linked it to networkedblogs that it replicated my posts to FB notes…I have been thinking about leaving it be or re-posting them. But it really would’ve helped if I did a back-up of my wordpress files, specially the databases which contains the posts, comments, links, which are the most important files in a blog

So anyway, here’s a quick guide to back up a WordPress blog in 60 seconds.

Cebu City will be formally declared ASEAN City of Culture tomorrow, Friday – July 15, 2011, because of its creative industry and strength in performing arts and culinary arts, among others.

The formal declaration will be held at the Radisson Blu hotel.

Nestor Jardin of the Cultural Center of the Philippines said being designated as the ASEAN City of Culture means more opportunities for Cebu to market its tourism and creative industries in Southeast Asia.

The city will also receive minimal financial support from the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) Ministers of Culture and the Arts, the organization that bestowed the distinction on Cebu.

A series of activities will follow the declaration, including an exhibit to showcase the best of Cebu’s fashion, jewelry, furniture and virtual arts, a cultural show, and dinner at the Malacañang sa Sugbo.

The next day, the marker of the ASEAN City of Culture will be unveiled at the Family Park in Barangay Talamban, which will already be called the ASEAN Friendship Garden. A tour to Cebu City’s heritage sites will begin at 10am.

- Full Story Here – The Philippine Star