tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33140303858103041852024-03-22T04:54:22.073+08:00ARUKETIKRARYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.comBlogger233125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-34046121101925438902022-11-02T04:26:00.003+08:002022-11-02T04:26:32.891+08:00DRIVE THE MECHANIC<p style="text-align: justify;"> The subject on Engineering Mechanics. I remember studying the subject. But not thoroughly. Machines. Machines. From Cars to washing machines. Your bones got a little machine.</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-91734853751071153962022-10-10T12:07:00.003+08:002022-10-10T12:07:51.845+08:00TWO WEEKS WITH KEN, SAN, AND LOY<p style="text-align: justify;"> Loy was a foreman. He's been in the construction business for so long now. He's been around our region in and out. He's also been to Saudi I heard. San wants to take Ken, Loy and me to this island haphazardly distraught by a recent typhoon. I was reluctant to come along. Father is sick with the lung cancer. We needed to be around. As he was brought in and out of the hospital.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">San says we'd be a big help for the rehabilitation of the island's provincial capitol. Sure we eventually arrived at the islands and saw the devastation. Roofs of buildings were like crumpled, and destroyed. Trusses were hanging on for dear life. Blue sacks with letters printed NDRRMC did not entirely cover the large expanse of roof area of the wrecked provincial capitol building.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But there's an inauguration party for the newly elected governor. It meant a lot for the people from the islands to celebrate. Almost every night, for three days we witnessed programs, of music and dances on stage were large screens, and large speakers, and loud sound systems. There were kiosks upfront selling delights and special food. Visitors were everywhere. And local residents alike were cheerful.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It also was a great time for Building Contractors & Suppliers to sell themselves, hanging around the governor, the councilors, around their offices. Waiting for notices, news, about the ongoing and upcoming projects.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">And sure there was a forum headed by the governor and the local mining bureau head. There were talks, questions and answers. And there was food. But then you'd soon be asking yourself, do we deserve to be here? Are we qualified?</p><p><br /></p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-35375118973417885072022-09-28T08:25:00.003+08:002022-09-28T08:25:58.667+08:00FOGGY VAGUE<p> ON THE LAP OUT</p><p><br /></p><p>Suddenly he thought it sinful to own or use a laptop.</p><p>You happen to have on before.</p><p>She saw you using it. And she thought it something she owns. Even when you</p><p>know it's not. It is mentally wrong. And it felt like</p><p>shit. She'd be going somewhere else for someone else to </p><p>answer her question. </p><p> </p><p>"Where's my laptop? Where did it go?"</p><p><br /></p><p>And you felt it foggy to give an answer. Hmmm. It wasn't</p><p>your call. It wasn't your look out. It wasn't your</p><p>responsibility. It hasn't been since. And you had to</p><p>ask back. </p><p><br /></p><p>"Why, did you lose it, did you lost it?"</p><p><br /></p><p>And you deemed it hypothetical. Women. Ladies these days.</p><div><br /></div>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-16074819183983599002022-09-20T05:06:00.005+08:002022-09-20T05:06:45.115+08:00IT SEEMS UNPROFITABLE<p style="text-align: justify;"> Sure, sure. I'd agree. What were you selling again? Food. Wow, yeah. I love food. I'm a food addict. I also am a water addict. I drink water all the time. Sure, it's a basic need. It's addictive, You know? Water. Yeah, I love water. Yeah. Who does not? I mean, yeah...who doesn't love water? It quenches your thirst. It refreshes you up. It's good for the body.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Do you remember the times when your household's supply got interrupted? Yeah, like how sometimes the water seemed nowhere to be found? Like when it's been a day or two or even three? And you find yourself alone in the toilet watching a soup of shit in the toilet bowl. And all you can say is "Shit! That's shit!" And it becomes too big of a fuss, when you find yourself getting another bowel movement. Hahaha. Your insides creeping in. I mean creeping out. And all the farts in the world won't do. And yeah. All you thought about that day was shit. Shit. Yeah, dump it. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">I can go on. You know. Everybody knows. Everyone's got a nose. Hehe.</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-77377047048298251802022-02-17T16:17:00.005+08:002022-09-17T05:14:37.677+08:00 THE BACKGROUND OFF PERSPECTIVES<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">There has to be something in the background. Say, the ground, the horizon, the sky, the trees. There has to be something in the foreground. Say, a figure. Maybe an automobile, a pet, an insect, or maybe another tree. There just has to be. It wouldn't look complete, so they say. There has to be lights and the shades. And don't forget the colors, the hues, the tints, the tones...different strokes, different approach, different styles, methods, applications.</span><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">And before you really have to make one there has to be a plan, a floor plan...call it a layout whatever but that's how it was. But before doing so you got to have objectives and space requirements. And before having that you need to have a motivation, an inspiration, an aspiration. Besides the resources, yes, the resources. You need to have the right resource, the source, the primary, the origin, the start. So you can start, begin.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">And while you're doing so, you need to have the same thing you need while you're doing it. The way you are, the way it is, the way it was so you'd feel secure. So you won't stray, so you won't go so far you can't be reached back. Since it could be something that might or steal your soul away. Or the task might need more of your time, the task could drain your brain, might need to keep you up so late at night. You may forget what's real and what's not.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-wrap;">You may have to go somewhere, talk to strangers. You may have to keep them informed about what's what, might need to stay away from them too. You might need to isolate your self. Yes, indeed. You may have to find a way to feed yourself without somebody else doing it for you like it used to. Hahahahaha. You need to keep your sanity. </span></span></div>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-60731148115499579022021-10-03T12:28:00.000+08:002021-10-03T12:28:02.381+08:00DUMB ASSES, IDIOTS, GOLD DIGGERS, RETARDS, & MORONS<p style="text-align: justify;"> Well, I failed to mention slaves, beggars, and <i>desperadoes </i>on this blog entry title. I don't understand the big fuss. Well then, we can look at it this way. Think of me as a character on a <i>Method Acting</i> spree. Some of which moviegoers and critics seem to know much of these days. But "<i>Achtung Baby</i>", everyone acts. Even our leaders, most of which we only see on TV, the newspaper. Theatrics on film where we can now maybe happily rewind and make another meaning of, another perspective, another side of a story. It's on the Internet and we almost are glued in on-line is still the trend.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">At some point you wouldn't really know who to vote for anymore. The one closest to you might be more helpful, who knows? When no one in your midst never really feels there for you anyway except your family, of course, and friends, neighbors. It's for Work. Right. And you wonder yet again. "Are we going to get fucked up again?" Our lives being played.</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-41379635407000909202021-07-13T18:15:00.001+08:002021-07-13T18:15:06.571+08:00WITDOM TOOTH<p style="text-align: justify;"> We are supposed to stay home, stay safe. From the television, radio to the monitor, we hear, see, learn so much. Apparently, the pandemic is still on. And am kind of feeling retarded, or my pace is kind of being controlled. I am using the On-Screen Keyboard now instead of the usual. So I have to use the mouse to type each letter. It consumes so much time. This post, lack of content. Making it now an undesirable chore to do. To write my thoughts away. And since this is going slow, I sometimes lose those words of WITDOM that flung in and out this monstrous head. It loses its way and never got written. Treasure troves of delights, those gems of thoughts of words, the skies only you alone can see, you wish to share along the ride. Anxieties...</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-64599105462754935252020-10-08T05:51:00.005+08:002020-12-02T02:03:16.549+08:00THE DISTANCE COMPLEX <div style="text-align: justify;">It gets scattered sometimes. It feels scattered, your mind. Not your brains but your mind. Your mind put into several places and divided as if in partitions, like rooms inside your head. Like several subjects put into binds of a book. And you have to find a way to put it together again. To keep your posture, your stance, your stand, your composure.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Like the mess on your bed every morning. Blankets, pillows in disarray. half-forgotten passwords, usernames and log in information. Addresses, edits, quips, quotes and something to read and rescan through to keep your balance. And yes like folders on your desktop computer. It piles up. Visions of words, letterbombs, and blog entries...stories and ideas you have to find proof of existence. Questions that asks "I can't be alone on this, someone else must have thought about the same thing, is someone else out there?" So you look for it on web browsers. Look for answers for things and questions which isn't asked around. And there it was.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There, we would find the same experiences like with kindreds. But now you begin to worry about distances. We were put into places to keep our distances, socially. For the real purpose you'll have to find yourself. To find the answers within and for which the mainstream media seem to keep barging and confusing your head about with. Distance, distance...keep your distance. You're getting too close. Now we're worried about being so close together. Close knitted, tight-fit...we might need to loosen up. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Secrets begin to unfold. Some of which were not accepted. Not without valid reasons. Out of hatred, out of love, out of need, out of want, the need for pleasure, pain, speed, and purpose. Adventures, explorations, research into the very fabric of human existence. And the place we live in, this town, this city, this country, this continent, this planet. And you find your self watching the earth, in front of you...there you found the itch to get lost in. To arrive at your usual self without going anywhere. </div>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-24189183376367778742020-08-30T06:55:00.001+08:002020-08-30T06:55:57.431+08:00FROM ABOVE<p style="text-align: justify;"> It's called a CLOUD now. When you upload something from your computer when you go online. It's now called a CLOUD. It's now one of the terms we use in this STORE AGE. There was the ICE AGE, the STONE AGE. Now it seems we're living in the STORE AGE. Pardon the pun. Haha. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Well, it's too much downloading, we needed more uploads. It seems to dry us up. And then the clouds shall appear again and shall reign us with rain. The promise of rain. This cycle happens to be one of the first topics or lessons I've learned from Science. Evaporation, Condensation. Solid, Liquid, Gas. Vapors, Oxygen, Hydrogen, and Carbon Dioxides. Remember how we had to memorize the Chemical Symbols? And if you had to, you could memorize the Table of Elements. I once read that Bill Gates now has one of every element in his own Periodic Table.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">God knows how we humans have made use of this blessing called the elements. How many discoveries, innovations have grown out of this knowledge. How many prototypes, gadgets, technology. And still, we had to patent. Haha. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The need to patent, to copyright. This need only really arises when there's a need to trade. No one can patent a fruit or a vegetable, can you? How about the ricefields, how do you claim copyright of a tree that has grown quite upright and sturdy? Would you ask a tree, are you real? Are you authentic? Are you original? Do you need protection? Do you need to be patented, or copyrighted? Hey, tree, speak up. Haha</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-60795786757552532562020-08-22T06:27:00.006+08:002020-08-22T12:25:37.591+08:00OFFSET INSET<p style="text-align: justify;"> Roofs are mostly off set. Not barn-like. Not European, not Mediterranean, or anything else after all. The roofs for houses in the tropics. No winter, just too much rain, too much sunlight, no snowfall. Houses need more exterior shading before going in. It's more like keeping residents within their vicinity, within their premises. Keeping them in bounds, not out of bounds. Somewhat to keep them safe, protected.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">We can observe how dwellings are made down where we reside more than anywhere else. Unless your minds are driven by research or school or some kind of entity to study something that's built somewhere else. Shouldn't our minds just stay where our feet stood on? Why do we have to keep studying other architectural designs that are made to be built on different weather and conditions? Shouldn't we just build our houses in tune with our own environments rather than build it like it belongs somewhere else? Hahahaha. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">But we are really not that surprised. It's not surprising that we have this system called HVAC. We don't even have deserts here and again we don't have winter. We really do not need to have Heating Systems. We can just go out of our dwellings and breathe in and out, catch our breaths outside for the breeze, the winds. We really do not need Air Conditioning. You know. unless......unless, unless..hehe</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Roofs, composed of..well, usually down here is composed of several parts. It's the top covering of your houses. Eaves, it has gutters where rainwater is caught to find its way to the spouts, the pipes on to the tanks to wherever canals, to the sewers.</p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-70291056485231682862020-08-19T07:58:00.002+08:002020-08-19T07:58:51.894+08:00SAME DIFFERENCES<p> Yeah, she's different, he's different. What's different about him, what is different about her? Not sure. But hey, look at him, look at her. They are not of the same age, not the same built, not the same size, not the same face. Different. Damn yeah, look at them. They are different. </p><p>Well, I guess so. What makes me different from you? Every person is unique. What's the big fuss? </p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-5463962902821014952020-08-16T04:55:00.002+08:002020-08-16T04:55:46.415+08:00SCAMS<p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: justify;"> Scams. It won't be a scam unless it sells , does it? Unless it puts food on the table, unless it's marketable. What happened to decency, ethics and morality? Have we gone that hungry, we forget? Or has all these been an acceptable, tolerable practice? It's just art, it's just a game. What are you complaining about?</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: justify;">And so we begin to isolate ourselves so we can deduce about what really mattered, right? It's health, it's our families that really matter. And the next thing we'll hear about...</span><p></p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-54204636542834607172020-08-14T21:09:00.002+08:002020-08-14T21:10:55.537+08:00PARAGRAPHS<p style="text-align: justify;"> Lucky are those who have marketable obsessions. These days we are now or seem to now insist to keep and stay home. And no matter how hard we try to not get anxious about something, we still seem to get weary. We hear it and we read it. We've read about it and yes, we have learned about it. And we're apparently still on this pandemic. Which seems fake, which seems an acceptable deception or a blessing in disguise. I don't know. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">People accept the predicament. And we'll never know which news we need to keep catching up for or if we really needed to. Medical practitioners, more upbeat than ever, seem to get all the credit. And it's for a healthy life anyway/ Doctors, nurses, and medical professionals. Frontliners. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">And the government seem always up to the task. They never seem to tire. They never seem to get lazy. All their faces, their continuous plight for more healthy ways. Facemasks and everything. They seem to want to make nurses of us all. They seem to want to dominate and feed us their ways of living Leaving and rendering some of us dumb. Almost childlike, zombie-like figures, useless and dumb. Some got lost, got lost along the way, helpless, asking for food, their ways of living interrupted.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">And some folks are happy. Well, we need to save ourselves. It's a virus. Like an economic virus or something. People die here and there, and they seem to not want to lose count. </p>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-85882344207139718072020-07-14T04:26:00.000+08:002020-07-14T04:26:03.564+08:00MARK IT MARKETIn Economics, it's the opposite of scarcity. when you have more than you need, you will have or need to share. You don;t want to end up with OVERSTOCK. And if you need something back in return for it, you will have to sell. Selling out only meant that you really didn't want to share because you needed something back, in return for it. It's like "what's in it for me?". RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-29604039000714403692020-07-12T04:31:00.000+08:002020-07-12T04:31:54.561+08:00ENGINES <div style="text-align: justify;">
We've seen too many cars, automobiles, mechanical prototypes and everything. But much too often than not, some people are not too keen on the engines. Since we put too much attention with its outer covering, design, the look, the color, the shape, the texture and feel. We sometimes forget or failed to check or put more attention on the engines. It's like a book judging it by its cover.</div>
RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-52407376793370359732020-06-12T03:54:00.002+08:002020-06-12T04:02:33.819+08:00BOSSES AND BUSES<div>
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and fro our villages to take us to the city and back. The transport service business ran for a number of years during my childhood, adolescence, teenage, college up almost to my adult years. I don't know what happened to the buses, the drivers and the conductors. They must have gone too far and reached the space. Haha. </div>
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I can still remember the first few days we rode with the busses to and from school. There was one that was called the SPACESTAR. It was airconditioned and the seats were cozy. We get to see and meet</div>
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almost everyone from town. And some of the drivers were unusually friendly as well. Among the </div>
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famous drivers were "Nong Bert", "Nong Dodong", and "Saddam". Haha</div>
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In our teenage years, we also found our ways reaching out for a cassette tape to send to the driver, to have it played while riding on the bus. And everyone inside will hear your playlist as we ride along. On to the college years we always find our way for home knowing that a friendly bus would take us home everyday.</div>
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And we get to see everyone who lives in our town through the buses. And of course, when some of our neighbors got to ride in their on private cars, we opted for the bus.</div>
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Now the buses are gone. It seemed that the buses took our souls along. Now, the trips have long gone, empty, like a railway train derailed and left hanging beside the driveways. No more bus stations, no more bus dreams. Now that there's lots of jeepneys, pedicabs, taxis, and motorcycles, and privileged private, restored, new, company and government owned royalty cars I still preferred the comfort of riding the humble bus.\</div>
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Are we now making way for the choo choo train? Hehe</div>
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RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-40478512722473612852020-06-02T06:33:00.002+08:002021-07-13T17:53:26.883+08:00ISOLATION<div style="text-align: justify;">Something has happened. And it's too much of a bore to need investigation. Everybody seems to want to go home now. They must have saved a lot of goods, things, and skills, away from home. They missed home so much, now they badly needed a reason to stay home. So there's a theory. Something you might find yourself asserting from. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But home really wasn't that kind. So we needed this isolation. Some ideas to keep peers, friends, and annoying relatives away from. To keep a certain distance, to stay away, some space so to speak. Social media has made it possible to almost keep track of everyone without having to meet or see them in the flesh. No shaking of hands, no kissing on the cheeks, no exchanging of hands to send and to receive. Instead, we have these cellphones in each of our desired rooms in isolation. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We didn't need the germs, the extra burden. We didn't need the virus, the influence, influenza, the influential. We didn't need to be taught some more, we have information about this and that. If we have questions, we can find them online. Nurses, doctors at their usuals selves. We now have facemasks. And we have several acronyms to choose from. The outsiders need to have some kind of pass to go to and fro, And it apparently happens all over the world. </div>RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-16954329280440002322020-04-26T02:59:00.000+08:002020-04-26T03:09:22.232+08:00LOCKDOWNS AND MODULAR THINKING<div style="text-align: justify;">
I don't believe this. I've been living here for so long now. I can't remember the last time I had to introduce myself around. I don't think that times have really changed that hard so far. We only have gotten used to having too many familiar faces around, that we didn't have to greet and dared taking time to notice some of our own hometown folk anymore. Like school perhaps. Sure, we have more paved roads. We have more villages and subdivisions, villas, and what have we here. Well, let's see.</div>
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We live in a city where it's supposed to have been a province first before it came to have been called a city. But our place called "Lungsod ng Dabaw" or "City of Davao" is supposedly in the middle of two provinces. Or should I say four provinces? But that's not exactly always true. Because we somehow or still do refer our city to belong to Davao del Sur (the south) rather than Davao del Norte (the north) . And we also now have the Occident and the Oriental. Oriental meaning the East, the Occidental meaning the West. But here comes another which seems to want to squeeze in. Yes, here comes "Davao de Oro." Will we have "Davao de Occo" soon enough?</div>
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Yes, I understand that every Province is composed of a municipality (a munisipyo). And a Municipality (a munisipyo) grows out to become a City (a lungsod). A City that belongs to numbered Region and somehow belonged to a State. States that form a Country. </div>
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If you Zoom in geographically, the smallest basic unit is supposed to be a family with a desired lot. A lot of around say a hundred to three hundred square meters area. A lot of only around a hundred square meters can not really suffice in the long run when a family grows to stay and remain in their own premises. Unless, you know. The Unlesses. One child, several children? </div>
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Okay, say we have a street of around 14 LOTS. And these 14 LOTS will face a street which is named or will eventually be named after something. Say a street that is named after a planet. And these lots will have lots at the back of each of them. The same area. 14 lots and 14 lots are equal to 28 lots. These 28 lots of and or almost the same area will have to form a BLOCK. Yes, we now have a block of 28 lots. So the BLOCK would sure look like a rectangle with streets around, four streets if you simply draw it on your mind. There will also be 4 corner lots. These corner lots will have two streets across them of course. And so basically, we will have more lots that would face the same street, 24 if we count them, and we have four lots that will have to face two streets. Get the picture? Well, yeah. It means that lots will almost or will belong to the same block but not the same street. Get it? </div>
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Okay, now we have a BLOCK of 28 lots. And so if we make four to even six BLOCKS of the same size, we can eventually call it a DIVISION or a SUBDIVISION. The more accepted term is a VILLAGE since these lots will eventually have VILLAS formed or constructed on them. So, these lots will have to be identified to have numbers on them. I understand that we call it HOUSE NUMBERS. And they will have STREET NAMES. In some places, they will have to identify them by BLOCK NUMBERS and LOT NUMBERS instead of just STREET. And beyond how we identify them, we will never even know how our lots have been numbered or named after by other obscurities. </div>
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But this is how I simply understood it. A VILLAGE, a row of houses, of blocks and streets, along with other VILLAGES, a group of VILLAGES that form a barrio, called a BARANGAY. A BARANGAY, along with other BARANGAYS that form a DISTRICT. And a DISTRICT, along with other DISTRICTS that form a CITY. </div>
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And somehow we have another way of naming them. A SITIO, A PUROK. Clearly, it's troubling, by how this has come to be. Well, I'd like to think of it as simply an IDENTIFICATION between the FARMERS and the BUILDERS. And we're not talking about the FISHERFOLK yet, who are closer to the seas and the LIVESTOCK producing folk. Well, as I understood it, that a group of VILLAGES that are closer to the FARMS, is called A SITIO, And a group of VILLAGES that are paved and are closer to the CITY is called a PUROK. And so we could have several PUROKS and several SITIOS that form a BARRIO or the BARANGAY. But then again, this could all get mixed up. And how we name them will have to depend on the PURPOSE of who and why we had to name, label, or identify them that way.</div>
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For what PURPOSE? Is there a CRISIS? Economic, Medical, Spiritual, Financial, Physical? An IDENTITY CRISIS still? Funny, how we sometimes get to identify people by where and how they live. SLUM AREAS, DEPRESSED AREAS, RED LIGHT DISTRICTS, MIDDLE CLASS, LUXURY HOMES, LOW-COST HOUSING, APARTMENTS, AUTONOMOUS REGIONS, HOUSING AUTHORITIES, RELOCATION, TEACHERS VILLAGE, WAR ZONES, HAUNTED, ABANDONED, UNOCCUPIED HOUSES. </div>
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Well, we have another way of naming areas in our CITIES too. The INSTITUTIONAL ZONES, THE RESIDENTIAL ZONES, THE COMMERCIAL ZONES, THE AGRICULTURAL, and THE INDUSTRIAL ZONES. And of course, we can always name them HALF AND HALF of this ZONES, SEMI? Basically, it's just PUBLIC and PRIVATE ZONES and our ACCESSES. We have leaders and workers, elected officials for our ways of living. It's still funny how we still do not get along quite well enough. Politics, in the name of progress. Hoaxes, fake news, deception, the media war, and theatrical operations. Sororities and fraternities. Old gangs and tribulations. Ethnic diversities and Medical Emergencies. Foreign affairs and tourism operations. Half breeds and alienated folk. Poor and rich, elites, sub elites, and lawyers. Law enforcement agencies, law-abiding citizens.</div>
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Occupants. Occupants of Inter-Galaxy and ExtraPulmonaryCoronary craft. Haha</div>
RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-31647414706487516552020-04-17T10:29:00.002+08:002020-04-17T10:56:11.202+08:00SOUND GARDEN<div style="text-align: justify;">
Plants. I'm talking about the kind that grows. Not the power plant, not the ice plant, or any factory. I have been put into this place where I have the chance to plant some seeds on the ground, wait for it to sprout, watch it grow, tend to it, and harvest. The moment my brother gave me this pack of seeds, eight kinds, I started out. </div>
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There's these 8 type of seeds in a pack that can be grown at home. Considering the amount of work needed for this task, I prepared some boxes, trays and backyard space. And my brother has this compost and my mother bought two sacks of garden soil.</div>
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And it will be like how we've done gardening or studied gardening before. In the fourth grade in school at Ateneo de Davao. We were given the seeds of our choice, each of us and a gardening plot where we were tasked to tend to it everyday. So we had the chance to go out to the backfield where a well is just step away so we could water our gardens as we please. 4 pegs and some string, a rectangular plot like a plateau, to cultivate and tend to.</div>
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Well I had to ask my pops who has an agri-economics background from the University of the Philippines for some advice or just tips. And so I planted the TOMATO and the PECHAY seeds on two separate egg trays respectively as suggested. And the remaining six I will have to plant at the sideyard and at the backyard. There were eight packs inside this large pack. But there were two packs of CALABASA instead of just one for each. And the EGGPLANT pack is missing. So, there's 1> 2 packs of CALABASA 2> SITAO 3>AMPALAYA 4>TOMATO 5>KANGKONG 6>PECHAY 7> and OKRA. So there's these boxes of garden soil with seeds in them.</div>
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I started April 9th. Now it's the 17th. So it's more than a week since. I added the ROCKET SALADEAR. And our good neighbor shared UPO (bottle gourd) and some CUCUMBER seedlings. Aside from another neighbor sharing her cacti and the flowers mother was tending to closely, I am now raining water into these seeds, watching them sprout, showing up and grow, my mother smiling. </div>
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<br />RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-4138298470971322492020-04-13T11:16:00.001+08:002020-04-13T14:50:25.803+08:00PLAY DEAD<div style="text-align: justify;">
Play dead. How does that really happen? Haha. Or was there a DEAD LOAD in your structures, light as a feather, thin as paper? Did you happen to have caused something to be built out of someone's, or somebody's valid visions? Did you happen to have tended or was put to a place of isolation, away from the crowd, away from your own families and friends? Like a student who was put to too much homework and fieldwork where a seemingly small distraction can cause too much trouble? Or were you just freely roaming around without any care for anything all? </div>
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We really are a different kind of person to different kinds of people. It just doesn't add up if we keep analyzing this and that. Unless we really needed to. Those whose mobilities were too challenged, where distances and areas matter too much in their everyday lives. But why were we put it into tasks that were really too much of a bore to some degenerate? And the more you need or want to explain yourselves, the more you got misunderstood. And in no other way would you convince people that it's not the way it is.</div>
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How persuaded were we really to put into motion everything that we held true and convincingly the most virtuous? The people we know that we needed to personify so as not to be held helpless if we were to put ourselves in some close friend's place, like a substitute. Could we perform the same tasks we sarcastically held to be nonsense and lies? Or were we the kind of person that just doesn't really care?<br />
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Hmmm. Assume positions held by someone else. A rank. An official. Will you be able to do it alone without anybody's help these days? Like how we were put inside into make-shift cubicles, rooms, four-walled, structures...sitting down, working our asses off together but essentially goes home alone anyway. Among us who converted and now have treated our homes like offices. Something our fathers were not really taught how to be. And we somehow get frustrated because we can't find the time to teach them the same since it's too much information. And relations get mixed up. You can't teach old dogs new tricks. It won't work or it might not really matter. Or you could just say "I can't see any reason for me to do so. I am unfit for the job. Give it to somebody else." And the person who expected more from you is none the wiser for the job anyway.</div>
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<br />RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-88760370299273153862020-04-08T04:29:00.004+08:002021-05-05T17:22:47.158+08:00UNAMPLIFIED<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is reflective. You'd find yourself stationary, reflectionary. More like mirrors than walls. Your thoughts arrive more like dragonflies than butterflies. Your thoughts coming out of your pores, vapors steaming hot like lava out of you. You resist and you had to be rocked to put you into submission to let it go. Like the gas from your system, prrrrt. prrrrrropooooot, hahahaha.</div>
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It needs a push, a rub or you might find yourself in pain. Your circulatories gyrate around you and another will find himself more of an avid listener around you. Your ears ringing like radio, antenna-like, you had to probe along. It's physical, mental, psychological. Like the moon yesternight you were dumbfounded, like a camera that zooms in and out of your life. </div>
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And you find the others too, also dumbfounded. Guests all around like ghosts from the past, feeling crowded in a spacious room. The distant neighborly chair somebody moved that sounded more like a fart than a drag. And you wondered why you never heard yourself moaned or snore in bed. </div>
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You worked your way out of it. Some dramatically, somehow intelligibly. It's embarrassing you thought. I had to break out, you say. I have to run. Hahaha. out of my room, my house, my city, my country, Hahaha. And into the woods, you'd find yourself free from troubles momentarily. At the beach, where the winds will blowhard. Underwater where only fishes may find you. Swim or surf on, wade along and strike along like flying. And then you come out and go underwater again. Breathe in and breathe out. Deeper, further, forward and couth. March and back. Haha.</div>
RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-16986719456897459232020-04-08T03:53:00.001+08:002020-04-08T03:53:16.296+08:00QUARANTINE GUARANTEED<div style="text-align: justify;">
Quarantine. Isolation. Places where you are checked physically by health professionals. I can only hear or see about this topic in places where transportation usually ports. Like the Airports, the Terminals, Ships Passenger Docks, Bus Stops, Checkpoints and Medical and Agricultural facilities. But of course, we can even make our own quarantine areas. The most basic is a place with clean running water, your lavatories, your kitchen sink, in your home toilet. It's where you wash away, bathe away, brush and drain away anything physically alien about yourself. </div>
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Spiritually, it's like the confessional. A booth inside a church where you supposedly pray and cleanse yourself of your unholy thoughts. In our own personal temples, mosques, churches. Where we kneel and worship to our own Gods.</div>
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And we were put into healing. And our shields will have to be called viruses in disguise. To force or remind us to stay put, pause and reflect. And in different circles, it had to be called sessions. Personal sessions, very private sessions to find serenity. Divine and harmonic proportions. </div>
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RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-90232951821949754272020-04-08T03:43:00.002+08:002020-04-08T03:43:36.445+08:00TERRIBLE SHIT<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's really simply terrible. Why are we allowing ourselves to be manipulated by how we fared this time electronically? We have allowed ourselves to be caged by our own pride. We should accept that technology, the phony kind, is not really that valid. It's not that important. It's just part of the plans we're making. Our own drafts. like simply our own drafts which are never really final unless accepted officially. It's messy. It needs scratch papers, blunt pencils, smudgy erasers. That needs sharpening and honing. </div>
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It's just a form of work that we do, be forever doubtful that it had to be put on paper first and signed. To somehow prove its validity. To know that it had to be called professions, professions of faith that it's going to be built and honored in time with grace. But who among us were put to task, those who were put to the test and trained? Those who will be prone to abuse and obsessive work and higher learnings. leaning on to our dreams of this and that. To fulfill visions of our futures that continue to haunt our longing for a better life and for whom when reached, will fall to the abyss of greed and power.</div>
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Cheer up, aren't we blessed enough? </div>
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<br />RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-28904548238068803772020-04-06T12:42:00.003+08:002020-04-06T12:42:55.328+08:00SCOPES, HORRORSCOPES TALES OF HORROR<div style="text-align: justify;">
There, it's back again. Somehow it's all over the page. Use the scope, the telescope, your lens, your magnifying lens. Magnify, focus and use the microscope. Shoot it all down. Then you analyze it. Oh, yeah look! Microbes, planktons, bacteria, amoeba, phytoplanktons, germs, dirt, mildew, scarabs, microscopic endemic organisms. Virus.</div>
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And why in the heck are we still judging people by the dates and places of births? By the schools they attended to, their zodiac signs, their names, their family, their friends, their peers, mentors folk, and their looks. We judge people by their past affiliations, their accomplishments, their achievements. We also judge people by the amount of money they can spare outright. By the houses, they live in, the place they go to, the clothes they wear, the people they relate with. </div>
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There's the Medical Police. Watch out. Defend yourself. Watch out, it's your friendly local Health Department. They'll disinfect your places of worship, the airports, the museums, the public places. Your private homes, your residences. Don't fret, it's apparently for your own good, your own welfare. </div>
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Then here come tales of horror we can read and watch. We can compel each other to obey and take heed. Or we can refuse to participate, to challenge the threat and investigate. It's all part of the thinking process for a thinking individual. Should we blindly obey if it's not that convincing? Do we need to be persuaded, were we hesitant, resisting, uncooperative? Would they have to do so by force, unnecessary, involuntarily? </div>
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But then again, "Were these questions answered, investigated, researched and debated on?"</div>
RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3314030385810304185.post-46934441432131848452020-03-29T22:14:00.003+08:002020-03-30T16:30:55.227+08:00NOVEL CORONA VIRUS, COVID-19, PANDEMIC ISSUE<div style="text-align: justify;">
The fact of the matter is that I still doubt this. Sure, I could be wrong and you could say that the only way that you could convince me otherwise is to infect me. It gets annoying when it's the only thing that's bugging us every day now. Did this issue come conveniently to emphasize the recession/ or has this caused the recession? I have read and heard somewhere that this is merely a WHO stunt, a UNITED NATIONS affiliated political strategy. But my God, have you heard and seen how our leaders act these days? </div>
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It's like this. So it's like this now? Read between the lines? </div>
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Corporate businesses went berserk over losing their value, so they create this. Can we suggest that notion? Or is it wrong to think that way? Has the Chinese begun avenging after a former leader and even the present one did have more leanings on the China Concept invading our homelands? And of course advocating the usual war on drugs, the human rights violation problems, the war on human trafficking, and this pandemic. Should we have to make our own theories about this? Every theory could be wrong, but I can think of several theories none of which my own parents won't want to hear.</div>
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Has one generation and another generation thoughts collided? Conflicting opinions happen like clockwork. Is it just a Computer Virus? Is it somebody's novel, a horrifying fiction that came to life supported by Hollywood in the making? Is it a married people thing? Is it a moral issue? Is it a sensationalized media war against the internet? Or is it a real Health Concern?</div>
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A Pandemic. Sure, medical supplies did become a big sell-out. It turns out that all of these antibacterial, anti germs, antiseptic products had to be disposed of. Testing kits, face masks, medicine, pills, food supplements, vitamins, power drinks, and what else have we? </div>
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Medical practitioners, our heroes, our front-liners, nurses, doctors, medical technologists. We all have to secure the validity of every taxed profession, or the government will be held liable for offering to regulate and tax it. Is that it? Just like how some other professions were regulated. Health buffs, health centers, hospitals, and makeshift health centers put into cross-hairs in our computers and TV screens. But who would really have to resist this? Why go into the task of proving them wrong when all of the media say otherwise? It's good for our health, stay home and practice social distancing. Wash our hands more often and longer than before and make sure we're not exhibiting the symptoms by taking Vitamin C. </div>
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Well, health is wealth. What else can I say? I still see my shit every day.</div>
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RYEKShttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03312855553035402679noreply@blogger.com0