My New Posts and Journals

Dear Readers and Followers:

I promised I will post new entries. It just so happened, I posted them in another one of my online blog. For those of you interested in knowing how I treated my Bartholin's Cyst, head to this link:

Bartholin's Cyst and How I healed Myself

I also wrote about my Pregnancies in the same blog

My Pregnancy: First Half

My Pregnancy: Second Half


So sorry for the inconvenience. I might start posting there more often so if you like what I write, you might want to follow threesprites.wordpress.com. See you there!


xxx

Warm Up After Months of Hiatus

Seven months has passed since last I have blogged and in those seven months I have struggled with my inner demons, wondering how to improve my situation. Actually, I am pretty well off compared to other people in this time of hardship: staying at home, not working, and relaxing while taking care of my new-born. I gave birth to my son last February. Thank you! I am a proud mom of one of the most adorable infants.

I endured sixteen long hours of labour, which so far, has been the most excruciatingly painful experience I have ever had. The last five hours of Picotin induction sent me reeling from torment and despite the aid of epidural, the level of pain was such that I have never had before, I couldn’t even scream. Nope. My boyfriend (no, we’re not married) told me so. I was so dazed from the pain and medicine that I whispered and groaned. By the sixteenth hour, I gathered what remaining strength I had left to push out a 3.8 kilo baby from my vagina all the while screaming in my head, “I don’t want a ceasarian! I don’t want a ceasarian! I don’t want a ceasarian!!!! Please come out, baby!”

I was successful .

By May, I developed a cyst. I will elaborate more on that later in a separate entry. I was thinking of documenting it three months ago but I wanted to wait it out and experiment to make sure it’s effective first. So far, this is another success story you will hear about in a while.

Anyway, I . . .  am heavily dependent on my parents. They are very forgiving despite their foul mouth and fury, which they only release within closed walls--- BUT! with an adorable grandson that has long been waited for, they couldn’t simply toss us out of the house. Hey, he’s a possible heir to their assets! I am very grateful of my parent’s generosity. However, I would be happier if they wouldn’t emotionally berate, be over bearing and controlling. Well, we can’t have it all, right? Or am I wrong?

Perhaps, if I would just try to be a little nicer and sweeter the way I am to my boyfriend and son then my parents (my mom in particular) would lessen their grip. Or would they? It’s kind of hard trying to change your attitude to someone when you’ve been that way to them for such a long time and vice versa. Although I have noticed my mom is trying her best to be nice on her part. She’s trying so hard it’s almost embarrassing. And a little awkward if I may add.

She has been suggesting that if I were to run my own business, I only have to ask them. Still, I cannot just do that without anything to show them, right?

I’ve been watching several How-To-Do’s on Youtube and other online medias, focusing on baking and coffees and I have thought of several ways to nudge my mom towards a generous pay-check: serve her with a cake using available resources at home or make her coffee with nice decorations—pro-style on it every morning. Will those little acts convince her that I am ready to start my own business? I wonder . . . I have confidence with the technical nuances of a business . . . I just need a little persuasion.

And hey!! Once I get my own business I’ll have more to write and more to experiment on. And hopefully more exposure to successful people who will help me become the best I can be. Cause right now I am surrounded by negative people who thinks they’re oppressed when the truth is, they’re the ones keeping themselves in poor condition.

Upcoming Entries Are:

 1.      Registering your baby in the NSO Muntinlupa, Philippines
 2.      Bartholin’s Cyst: What it is and how I treated it
 3.      Obtaining a Passport (Filipino)
 4.      Registering your baby in Belgium while Offshore.
 5.      Obtaining a Passport (Belgian)
 6.      Taking Care Of a baby 0 to 6 Months Old.

So, I hope you’d check in and read them. They may or may not come in the order as above, just to warn you. I have a lot to catch up on my blogging. See you soon!!! 

I Am Offering My Service as An Artist on Fiverr

Hey guys!!!

I am looking to collect some cash for my future projects (it's a secret for now) and have recently opened an account at fiverr.com which is a site where people can advertise micro jobs they will do for $5. I am offering my service as an artist there, drawing pictures of yourself, your pet or your favorite character in two of my styles: of caricature and chibi illustration.

My instructions are simple:

1. Send me a high resolution picture of yourself/your pet/favorite character and describe in your message what style you want the illustration in: Chibi or Caricature.  
2. 5$ per character; no background or color. Only black and white.
3. $10 dollars additional if you want colors
4. $10 dollars additional if you want backgrounds
5. Make your orders clear to me in a message before ordering. 
6. Maximum 5 days delivery.  
7. $20 for PNG/PSD file of your order

If you are articulate with your orders, I can send it to you in 1~2 days. It also depends on how many you order. Payment is done via paypal and you must open your own fiverr account there to order.

So, hop into my fiverr profile!! I hope to hear from you, soon!;D

 

An Alternative:

If you don't want to open an account on fiverr but would like for me to draw you something for $5 dollars, that could be arranged. Just private message me through my working email address below with your images attached:

email: phamiel.op@gmail.com
title: Caricature/Chibi Drawing Request

Again, payment method will be through paypal. Unless you live on the same country as I do, then I could instruct you otherwise.

Below are some examples of my drawing style and stuff I worked on:

I hope you like what you see!!!

Origin of the Proverb, "Blood is thicker than Water"

"Blood is thicker than water" is a common proverb shared and spread amongst families all across the globe. Although I was taught it conveys the importance of family over friends, there was a loose screw that refused to fit the meaning together with those words. Parents would tell you that "blood" is a metaphor for family while "water" is the metaphor for friends. However, such explanation didn't make sense to me because I have never heard of 'friends' being personified by water.

Another thing that disturbed me is the idea of giving importance to the family no matter how dysfunctional or detrimental it could become to one's mental state. Why would you sacrifice your own happiness to help a member who consistently suffers from dependent personality disorder, is alcoholic or even a drug addict? I cannot accept this thinking. I set out to search for the origin of the the proverb and discovered that people has been using the proverb wrong.

Years of peace have changed the meaning of this proverb turning it from a politically related dictum into a family phrase. Yes! In the past, "Blood is thicker than water" was a wisdom amongst soldiers, generals and leaders and it had a complete opposite meaning from today's interpretation. For people during the warring eras it simply meant something like, " My allegiance to the confederate is more important than my family."

Way back before the time of Jesus Christ, leaders of nations would swear allegiance in a ritual called the blood pact or the covenant:

 . . . suppose two nations desired to enter into covenant. Each nation would select a representative, and the representatives would meet; weapons would be exchanged, i.e., the strengths of each nation would be swapped. Cloaks would be exchanged; for the cloak was the 'selfhood' of each man and thus each nation. Then, covenant sacrifices were brought, two bulls. The bulls would be split down the middle, and between the halves would be a pool of blood. Then the representatives would walk through the blood and around the drawn carcasses in a figure eight (this is the provenance of the symbol for infinity). And they would finish their promenade standing in the blood, facing each other. And the statement being made was this "this covenant is to life, and if it is broken, I will die even as this animal has died. Unto death I make my vow." (Radic)

Other representatives of nations would even end the ritual by cutting the center of their palm and mixing their blood together in a handshake, signifying that the covenant cannot be unbound unless by death. One of the early record of this type of covenant in the Philippines was in 1565 between Miguel Lopez de Legazpi of Spain and Rajah Sikatuna of Bohol, which was a little after the Battle of Mactan (I have actually visited the site of the Blood Pact twice!).

The covenant was a quintessential part of an alliance between nations what with matter of life and death being involved. Men of ancient past have done this for quite some time as history has shown and it's not just something that comes out of a Bible. Perhaps we should give the Bible the benefit of the doubt and reconsider it as a reliable source rather than invalidating its foundations in its entirety.  But I digress.

So, for the leaders of the past, the "blood" in the phrase in discussion is the covenant. As for the water it simply symbolizes the amniotic fluid in the womb, shared by siblings or family (which makes a lot more sense than saying that it symbolizes your friends) as pointed out by a Congregational Leader, Richard R. Pustelniak in his article, "How Shall I Know?" :

This phrase has completely lost its original, covenant-related, meaning. Today, it is interpreted as meaning that blood-related family members are to be considered as more important than anyone else. However, the original meaning is, "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," (2 Terms)

I am very much relieved having discovered the phrase's original meaning for I thought the world has gone mad. It is a lot easier for me to accept the primordial instead of the former. If you think about it, breaking a covenant is a lot riskier than helping your family because you not only lose your reputation, status and prestige as a leader or a representative but you also lose your own life. I totally buy this.



------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 Pustelniak, Richard R. "How Shall I know? The Blood Covenant" Beit Avanim Chaiot, Inc., a Messianic Jewish Congregation. http://www.bac2torah.com/covenant-Print.htm
Oct 1. 1994 Mon. Jan 21. 2013

Radic, Randall E Dr. "The Covenants." Grace Notes.
http://www.realtime.net/~wdoud/covenants/covenants.html
n.d. Mon. Jan 21. 2013.

New Blog Site

Hi, everyone!! Since I have allowed myself to post cynical entries (although many are not) which has proven detrimental to my state of mind, I decided to create a new blog where genuinely blithe creation are piled. At the moment it remains empty however, in due course it shall devotedly be filled with colors and love. Check it out people:

Three Sprites and A Soul

See you there! :D

The Alien Princess and the First Human Astronaut

When I was six years old and learned to read, the first books I read were the Bible Stories for children. Over the years I picked up legends and fairy tales that fascinated me to this day. It's these stories that fulfill the void in my soul and they answer to me silently, "No, you're not alone."

"No, you're not alone."

Somewhere out there in the vast universe there are people like us living their lives and several of them have visited our little planet within our little Solar System. Modern Archeologists have found proofs of Alien Existence in Ancient Sites and Burials all over the world, refuting old theories that explains the mysteries of megalithic structures that marked lost civilizations. In pursuit of these proofs, I recall two Japanese Fairy Tales that affirms Alien Visitations in Japan. They are the nation's most loved tales: Kaguya Hime and Urashima Tarou. Before I expound on the stories and explain why they stand as possible proof of alien visitation, I will first tell their stories beginning with Kaguya Hime.

Kaguya Hime

Once a upon a time, there was a poor but kind old couple who wished to have a child. One day, when the husband was out on the mountain to collect bamboo for fire and cooking, he noticed a strange bamboo glowing from within. He cut the bamboo in two and drew back in surprise when there lay a beautiful baby girl surrounded in gold. He was so overjoyed that he took the gold and the baby back home to his wife who thanked the Heavens for the miraculous gift.

The old couple became the richest in the land and in their love and appreciation, raised the child into the most beautiful woman in the province. Her skin was white as the moon and hair as dark as night and she was named Kaguya Hime (The Bamboo Princess). She was so beautiful that the warriors, the shoguns and princes traveled far and wide to seek her out and ask for her hand in marriage. But each time she would turn them down. This concerned her loving parents, who wished to see her happily married. One day when her mother asked why she refused to accept any of her suitors, the Princess stared longingly at the moon and revealed in tears, 

"I cannot stay here. They will come for me."

"Who will come for you, child?" asked her mother but the Princess remained silent. Frightened of losing their beloved daughter, the couples begged the suitors to protect the Princess from anyone who tries to take her away.

One fateful evening, when the suitors lined the walls of the palace in protection of the Princess the moon shone brightly above the palace. The Princess rushed out into the garden and stared up at the moon. And there came a flying carriage and its attendants in flowing gowns.

The suitors drew up their weapons, ready to attack but suddenly there was a massive flash of light and they froze. The attendants of the flying carriage reached out to the Princess and beckoned her to enter the carriage. The frightened parents held onto the Princess and begged for her not to leave them.

"I am so sorry," She whispered.

"I love you very much. Thank you for taking care of me." She said.

And she rode the flying carriage and flew back to the moon. A final flash and the suitors came alive again only to find the old couple weeping alone in the garden. Never to see the The Bamboo Princess ever again.

Urashima Tarou

Once upon a time, there was a fisher boy name Urashima Tarou. One day as he was walking on the beach towards his boat to go fishing, he saw three village boys kicking and attacking a large tortoise. 

Urashima Tarou rushed to the scene and picked up one of the boys,

"Stop that!" He scolded.
"Why do you bully a poor tortoise?"

The children stuck out their tongues and ran off.  Urashima Tarou helps the tortoise into the water. The tortoise was so grateful that he offered to take Urashima Tarou back to his home, where there's beauty he has never seen. 

Urashima Tarou, having a taste for adventure willingly agreed. 

And so, riding on the back of the tortoise, the tortoise took Urashima Tarou deep into the ocean where they came upon a Kingdom full of wonders. Urashima Tarou was received with hospitality by the Youngest Princess of the sea who appreciated his gallantry in helping the poor tortoise. 

For three years, Urashima Tarou feasted with the people under the sea.  But one day, he began to miss his old village and parents and asked the people of the sea to return him to his village above the ocean. The people of the sea were bereaved that he should want to return home. As he was ready to ride on the tortoise once again, the Youngest Princess of the sea gave him a beautiful treasure chest, tightly sealed.

She warned him,
"This chest contains important things. If you wish to return to us, promise to never open this box."

Urashima Tarou promised. He was so excited to return to his village that he rushed there to tell them of his adventure. But the minute he reached the village, it no longer looked the same. The people were different too and none of them knew him. Even the place where he and his parents lived was gone. Puzzled, he turned to an old lady passing by and asked her,

 "Excuse me, where is the house of Urashima Tarou?"

And the old lady answered,

"Oh! I remember my grandfather who told me about them. Three hundred years ago the only son went out to sea, but he never returned."

He was shocked. But in disbelief, he continually asked around for his parents, until it dawned to him that many years had past during his absence.

Quickly, he rushed back to the beach, hoping he'd have another chance to go back, calling for the tortoise. But the tortoise had gone leaving him alone with the treasure chest. Having forgotten the Princess' warning, he opened the box and out came a puff of white smoke, which turned him into an old man.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Breaking Down The Story of the Bamboo Princess

The story of Kaguya Hime is literally more prominent in its description of Alien Visitation than the tale of Urashima Tarou. In fact the story indicates that the Bamboo Princess herself is an Alien. It spoke of a "strange bamboo glowing from within" which can immediately be seen today as a pod or a capsule in which the Bamboo Princess was placed and transported to earth. It details of the Princess being "surrounded in gold" with which we could further conclude that the "strange bamboo" was actually a capsule made of gold. As many scientists have discovered, gold is the safest material to build a space craft because it never wears down and it requires a lot of heat to actually melt. However because of its value, NASA only uses gold for more important compartment of a spacecraft instead of the whole structure:

If you are going to spend billions of dollars on a vehicle that when launched will travel on a voyage where the possibility of lubrication, maintenance and repair is absolutely zero, then building it with extremely dependable materials is essential. This is exactly why gold is used in hundreds of ways in every space vehicle that NASA launches. 

Gold is used in circuitry because it is a dependable conductor and connector. In addition, many parts of every space vehicle are fitted with gold-coated polyester film. This film reflects infrared radiation and helps stabilize the temperature of the spacecraft. Without this coating, dark colored parts of the spacecraft would absorb significant amounts of heat

Gold is also used as a lubricant between mechanical parts. In the vacuum of space, organic lubricants would volatilize and they would be broken down by the intense radiation beyond Earth's atmosphere. Gold has a very low shear strength and thin films of gold between critical moving parts serves as a lubricant - the gold molecules slip past one another under the forces of friction and that provides a lubricant action. (King, 2012)

Another detail that alludes to the Bamboo Princess' identity is the fact that she can telepathically communicate with her Alien Families from outer space. She "stared longingly at the moon" and reveals that there's someone out there coming to get her back home. E.T. anyone?

 "E.T. Go Home"

Of course, people will never be able to describe an object they have no name for so they use the next best word to depict it. Case in point, the Flying Carriage that arrives to collect the Bamboo Princess. Let's not deny that it's a UFO. I mean C'mon. Seriously? A flying carriage? Even a five year old today will jump up and down on his bed and say, "It's A UFO!!! A SPACESHIP!!"

The story even reveals that the Bamboo Princess is not just an Alien but of a pretty important member of Time Travelers. If you would recall:

The suitors drew up their weapons, ready to attack but suddenly there was a massive flash of light and they froze. 

The fact that the men freezes suggest that the Flying Attendants froze the time. This is so that it's easier for them to just pick up the Princess. All this time, the old couple were clinging onto the Princess so, they were not affected and they saw her go.

Unfortunately, the story of Kaguya Hime never reveals who she really is, what's her real name and why she was transported on earth in a capsule. The fact that she herself never explained despite seemingly having known through telepathy, suggest that it was simply too difficult for humans of that time to understand it, much like it was difficult for Urashima Tarou.

Breaking Down The Story of Urashima Tarou

The Tale of Urashima Tarou starts of with allegorical meanings,  steeped in ambiguity. As slowly as it dawns to Urashima Tarou, it reveals to the readers that the story is about a young man who accidentally travels to space.

The beginning describes Urashima Tarou, as a normal human being coming across a tortoise being bullied by little children. Or were the children really bullying the tortoise? Possibly but consider the fact that no tortoise can carry a young man on its back and swim in the ocean. That's highly unlikely or even mildly possible because it would stress the tortoise! And the fisher boy would have died from lack of air! It is possible that the tortoise wasn't really a creature but a space craft that the children were curiously poking at with a stick.

Now, you may rebuke me and say, "But it's a fairy tale!" Perhaps not! Again, the people in the past have never seen a UFO before so they define it using words that are familiar to them. It so happens that the one-man-ship that the children were poking at was shaped like a tortoise and so the name stuck. Even the story slightly hints that it is a space craft because the moment Urashima Tarou drags the ship into the water (thinking perhaps that the tortoise would come alive again in the water), auto pilot is switched on and the ship plunges into the ocean carrying the hero along with it.

Under the sea, the ship could have possibly generated a wormhole which transports him to an aquatic planet. The story itself supports this theory because towards the end, it is mentioned that three hundred years have passed since Urashima Tarou had traveled back and forth. As we all know it takes 40,000 years or more to reach the nearest star unless there's a wormhole or portal that can shorten the space travel:

With Apollo rocket technology it would take 40,000 years or so to reach the nearest star, and we don't know if it has planets anyway. It's difficult to imagine advances in propulsion technology sufficient to reach speeds near light, or extensions in human longevity (not to mention patience) or "hibernation" abilities to centuries, so interstellar travel within one lifetime is hard to imagine (which does not, of course, mean it can't be done anyway).  (Grayce, 2012)

But it can be done! The story of Urashima Tarou confirms it!! And the fact that a hypothesis on space time has been formed, the probability of humans developing it is 4 to 15. Even String Theorists suggested that Space Wormholes are possible:

Reanalyzing the problem using string theory techniques used in the past to analyze black holes reveals a range of wormhole diameter-to-energy ratios that appear stable. String theory, or more properly "superstring theory", broadly envisions subatomic particles as strings or loops of vibrating energy rather than point-like particles described in more standard physics theories.Introduce the cosmological possibilities opened by this description of reality, add in a few equations, and the study finds that wormholes suddenly acquire stability, even if constructed of normal matter. "The wormholes can be arbitrarily large," concludes the paper. (Vergano, 2011)

So there was Urashima Tarou, going through a wormhole and into an aquatic planet. He arrives on Atlantis where the readers are introduced to a very wise and young Princess called the Otome Hime or the Youngest Princess. We know she's wise because instead of overwhelming him with difficult explanations, she keeps him in oblivion. In some of the other versions of Urashima Tarou, the Princess treats him like a man with amnesia, distracting him with beautiful scenery of four seasons for the whole three years; parties and all sorts of entertainment using familiar objects, furniture and attire very much in the same way that the SHIELD agency tried to treat Captain America when he wakes up 70 years later in the First Avenger. The Otome Hime made sure that Urashima Tarou was happy and unperturbed by his new environment, fostering him for three years within her castle.

Captain wakes 70 years later

She foresees that the shock of discovering three hundred years have passed would desolate him so she gives him a box of knowledge and wisdom before he leaves Atlantis; that gleaning an understanding of his situation will help him gain composure. Hence the depiction of him turning into an old man at the end.

Considering the words and descriptions in the stories that are associated with modern theories and scientific hypothesis regarding space travel and UFOs, it is very likely that the two stories in discussion were based on actual experience! They're not just fairy tales! They are actual records of alien visitations!

I am sure there are hundreds of more stories that apprise of space travels and alien visitations waiting to be scrutinized and reviewed. One only needs to look at them with a clear and open mind as opposed to shrugging them off as mere imaginations of plebeians. As I do love to read, I am in search of hundreds of more stories that may say more than they actually do.

 

Used Citations:

1King, Hobart. Uses of Gold in Aerospace

http://geology.com/minerals/gold/uses-of-gold.shtml

2Christopher Grayce. Living on Other Planets
http://www.newton.dep.anl.gov/askasci/bio99/bio99206.htm 

3Dan Vergano. USA Today: String Theorist Suggest Worm Holes Possible
http://content.usatoday.com/communities/sciencefair/post/2011/08/star-trek-wormhole-string-theory/1#.T6aBkcXuj58

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

I Won't Let Anything in this World Keep us Apart

I feel like nothing was real until I met you
I feel like we connect and I really get you
If I said, "You're a beautiful girl!"
would it upset you?
Because the way you look tonight
silhouetted
I'll never forget it

Oh, oh, Fiona . . .
Your fist have touched my heart
Oh, oh Fiona . . .
I won't let anything in this world
keep us apart.


My bf upset me. I am sort of ignoring his messages for now because he made me waste my time waiting for him, when it turned out he crashed at his friend's place. Making him wait shouldn't harm . . . and anyway it was his fault for not informing me in advance. :P

I love you very much.
I'm sure you know that
My not answering
your messages, trying to explain
is proof of my love.

*innocent*

Sunday Suspiration

So here I sit on my single bed, my laptop poised on a black platform used mainly for Ikebana (I took it from my mom's room. She never seemed to notice it's missing). I sit with one knee up and my left foot tucked between my crotch and my right heel. I sit, typing my blog without a sense of direction as to where this entry is going.

Well, actually this entry does have a purpose. Its purpose is to mainly satisfy my thirst for productive activity involving creativity and deliberation. My dear audiences whom I may, most likely never meet in person, I am lacking motivation. Period.

Lazily drinking San Miguel Light beer, I start to feel empty.  I ought to do something today and yet I find myself anticipating my bf's text messages which enliven my inanimate world. Such dependence on my by is insolent and had I been myself during my teen years, I would have never permitted myself the indulgence. BUT, here I am, just like any other girl waiting for her man to make her life colorful once more. Ergad!


Is there some way I can get my butt off the bed and do something productive???

Perhaps publicly announcing my future commitments would propel inspirations for aggressive actions; sending me out of my room on the road to success, just as Leo Babauta suggests in his/her (I really can't tell the gender from the name alone since I have had a female acquaintance with the name Leo) blog post.

Perhaps, so . . . So here are my future commitments:

1. Get a business under my name
2. Go to Europe with boyfriend
3. Have kids
4. Secure life
5. Maintain good lifestyle till death 

Sounds easy enough, don't it? I really hope this works. *eager* and I hope by the time I do get to go to Europe, my current boyfriend is still in love with me. Just staying realistic here cause the future is never absolute!

Dragon Year

A Happy Chinese New Year to all! This Dragon Year is, as predicated by the Chinese Horoscope, beginning to prove itself a difficult one. The year of deep contemplation and self-analysis, I have once again meditated and looked back at my past; checking off all the good memories and marking all the bad experiences red. I have no one to blame, really. I could only blame myself for the problems I am now having.

As I have written in my journal, My E-Boyfriend, I developed a long-distance relationship with a European man two years my junior. While he has no trouble coming to the Philippines with his Euro-Passport, I am having an issue with mine. Yes, my parents are rich and yes I am working for them but I don't pay taxes, I don't get a payroll, nor am I paid a high salary.

My parents has been constantly pushing me to become independent, yes but all in a wrong way if I may say so. They are doing the best they can, truly but I sometimes can't help but wonder if their over-protective tendencies are not helping me become self-reliant.

Each time I have a problem, mommy and daddy comes to the rescue. Yes, I am aware that I should do something about that so that I would become more independent. Yes, I am aware that I am fortunate to have such loving parents however, I wish they would give me the freedom to wander out in the world no matter how hard life is outside.

Sometimes, when I do go against the wishes of my parents and proved to them that I CAN and COULD venture out on my own, they would give me harsh lectures for hours on end. It's a lot more exhausting listening to my intimidating and experienced parents' sermon than running a marathon! The lashing of their words form severe bruises and scars on my wild spirit that I would often lose myself to self-remorse and regrets.

But enough about my parents. Having been given the "freedom" to do nothing and stay at home and eat whatever's in the fridge like a common Japanese N.E.E.T, my brain has gotten used to an escapist's daily routine: day dreaming and playing games online. It's horrible. I feel horrible. I no longer want this "luxurious" life. It's not a life at all. It's a boring, redundant and lazy life with no human contact whatsoever.

Yes, my parents insist that I play golf and mingle with "posh" people and social climbers, but I DO NOT appreciate their company! I want to mingle with people I feel comfortable with!!! Like, for example, my boyfriend? I want to be with him and live with him, but not marry. People marry for convenience but I do not want to marry him for that reason alone.

I want to be with people who shares my vision: a simple, middle class / worker's life. A rich man's life is not for me. No. But neither is a poor man's life. I want neither. I want to be in-between. Well, don't we all? Actually, if my parents remained in Tokyo instead of the Philippines, we'd be living in an apartment instead of a mansion. True!

I already know what I have to do, but I don't have the freedom to do it. If I tell my mom that I'm going out, she'll contradict and discourage me from leaving the house. She says it's her way to "challenge" me, but it's not effective at all. I don't WANT to listen to my mother because she's just impossible!


So impossible.

I know what to do, I just don't know where to start or how to start it at all. Even if I did, how am I going to convince my parents that what I did is the right thing? How do I convince them that without allowing them room to "break" my spirit yet again? I am terribly frustrated. I need the right kind of guidance. I have asked and asked again to send me a guide, a mentor or a teacher! ANYONE other than my parents because my parents, while they are good at what they do professionally, are anything but good teachers.

I no longer desire to gain "allowance" from parents. I want to start earning on my own once again. I want my own house. I want my own car. I want my own place.
And I don't want any cook or maids taking over MY KITCHEN! I cook what I like in MY KITCHEN! In the future, I will teach my children self-reliance because my parents certainly were not very successful at that area.

I do not appreciate it when I want to cook something and it's all gone because the cook used all of the ingredients and wouldn't even dare restore them so there's plenty for the next day.

"Your mother doesn't like it when I buy things that's not a top priority." Says the cook.

How are milk, eggs, sugar, flour, bread, cereals, and coffee not part of a daily consumption? Of course they're essential!!! How absurd!!!! I don't even eat rice. Rice are for fat people who can't afford a dish!!! It being carbohydrate it stuffs you faster and longer than any other food.

It's ironic that my mother, who eats rice on a daily basis would complain,

"Oh, you should avoid eating a lot cause you'll get fat."

Well excuse me, but isn't rice a lot more fattening than bread???????

For goodness sake. I must get out of this household. I have had enough! I need to motivate myself once more and find every way possible to get out. Challenge me dear God, and I will take it upon myself to achieve. Just help me motivate myself. Help me find someone who is practically and sensibly more supportive as a mentor.

This I pray.



By the way, as an update to my journal entry Ginger Root to Cure White Spots on Face, well that Ginger Root did nothing but sting my face each time. So that myth of Ginger Root curing White Spots, throw that out the window. It's just a myth.  What really did cure the White Spots was Bioderm Ointment, which is available in any Drugstore nationwide. It was suggested to me by a pharmacist at a Generika Drugstore.

Stagnant Cognition

A humdrum existence have taken a grip of my lengthy neck, ready to slam my face into a cold bucket of rain water, draining the remaining bubble of air which symbolizes the hope I have stored in the alveoli, located at the very end of my lung. Left lung or right lung? It doesn't really matter the way it didn't matter if you're a right or left hand user.

After watching that RSAnimate - The Divided Brain, I am torn between the satisfaction that the right brain-left brain theory initiated by Roger W. Sperry in the 1970's is flawed; I am torn between that satisfaction and the loss of identity.

As a child I've been taught that my dependence on my left hand determines my future; that I am meant to become an artist since birth so I should give up Math and other Academic Studies! So I pursued an Artist's Career, majoring in Art and Design despite the nagging conscientious that the said theory is sketchy. It took 20 years to learn that it is indeed impervious to reason. According to Iaian McGilchrist, it's not true that one brain does reason while the other does emotion in fact, both brain are able to process reason and emotion on a par. Even if you remove one part of your brain you can still function albeit less productively.

Now I can more or less accept that I haven't succeeded as an artist. Perhaps I was misguided to believe that it's my destiny due to that popular theory that had stuck with us for a long time. Thank you science for clearing that up. I've completely lost my tracks. Now I gotta look up at the stars, get back on track; get that monotony's murderous hands off of me so I can breath in more hope and gather courage.

Still, I will not give up my artist's career or the probability that I will succeed in that field. Time is an enemy one needs to befriend.

Ginger Root To Cure White Spots on the Face

About a month ago I went to this Salon for a facial and they gave me all sorts of cream and soap which they claim to cure pigmentation on my skin. Initially the white spots I have were hardly visible. After about 2 weeks of religious application of the creams and use of their soap, the white pigmentation on my face worsen. They spread throughout my cheeks. I figured I've been tricked: They will expect me to return to their store for more treatments which will then keep me hooked on their products.

Now that would suck and my confidence will plummet.

So, to protect my vulnerable esteem, I decided to look for alternatives and that's when I stumbled upon a natural cure: Ginger Roots. According to sources online, 6 weeks of fresh ginger juice on the affected areas would help blend it with the natural color on the skin. Since ginger is a lot cheaper and easier to purchase, I decided to give nature's choice a chance.

Just a few minutes ago, I've applied the affected areas with ginger juice and let them dry. I will keep an update on this blog for any improvement or significant changes on the skin in the days to come.

How I Applied Ginger Juice 

1. Get a large ginger, wash it and cut in half.
2. The first half, grate the ginger to get the juice and place in a small bowl.
3. The second half cut in thin slices.
4. Apply the juice on affected areas and allow to dry.
5. Lie down and place slices of ginger on the affected areas for 20 minutes.

I'm going to do this 2~3 times a day. 

*2 times during the week

*3 times during the weekend or on Sundays, depending on whether I stay at home all day or not. 

Veggie Tale

Tomatoes said she'd been wanting to upgrade Peanut's cell. For several months now, she has been nagging Cucumbers to buy a Black Berry. Cucumber, having bought a Black Berry, will then pass his old cell onto Peanut which, according to Tomatoes, has a lot of cool accessories and other widgets.

Tomatoes accused Peanut of apathy towards her efforts to have her cell upgraded when Peanut said, "I don't want Cucumber's cell." She expected Peanut to be grateful of her efforts and embrace with enthusiasm what has been given to her.

Peanut's rejection made Tomatoes really sad because for the longest time, she pitied Peanuts for possessing an old cheap cell of 1 year.

Peanut, on the other hand was upset because Tomatoes never asked her for her own opinions which are:

1. Cucumber's cell is plain ugly.
2. Peanut doesn't care much for games or other widgets in a cell.
3. Peanut likes her current cell and she doesn't want to part with it.

Tomatoes just wants to be like her veggie friends and their spouses who has a pairing Black Berry. She wanted to copy them and be like them in the same way but she couldn't get Cucumbers to buy a new Black Berry unless she has a valid reason. Her reason was that Peanut has been using a cheap old cell.  It never crossed Tomatoes' mind that it makes no difference if Cucumbers gives Peanut his old cell because it's older than hers.

It puzzled Peanut so much, she couldn't sleep.

Why does Tomatoes have to pretend that she's pushing Cucumber to buy a Black Berry for my sake?

Peanut wondered.

Why does she need to hide her monomania behind good intentions?

If she really pitied me, then why didn't she just buy me a new cell instead of passing on an old, ugly one that I never wanted?

She grabs her pillow and grips on it, hard.

I want to grab a tomato and throw it at a wall.



The end.

Waking Up

Waking Up

Waking up to see you near,
sleeping quietly,
peeves me dear and when you stir
I’d freeze, stay still and be;
breathing in the morning cheer
that early sun rise bring.
Then giggling with a knowing grin
that you will smile for me.

Curtains dance with singing wind
that passes through our window;
single birds glance by our bed
room, curious as the widows
next door . . .

Waking up to see you near,
sleeping quietly,
tickles me that when you stir
I’d hug you, silently.
Caressing you with all my heart
each morning that I rise,
I’d whisper words of hope and love
to keep you by my side.

Bells and cymbals all around
would ring into the sky,
petals flutter in the spring air -
white doves takes a lover’s dive
outdoor . . .

Waking up to see you here,
sleeping quietly,
please me dear that when you stir
I’d kiss you slow and sweet.

To Urban Blight

In my mind and heart

wings of gold take flight

and from outstretched hands

there stream beams of light . . .

From the sky I dive

without a doubt to urban blight;

ever knowing that you'll come 

tonight. 

All day 

in the sun I laze

visions glide like dials in the sky

Little drops
between my eyelashes sparkle
like flakes of pure white snow. 

And empyrean dusts they make

shapes of horses and of him

whom I've yearned and longed

for many years . . . 

And the stars they twinkle so

and the moons they circle more

while the comets zoom and speed

and in frenzy meteors freeze

In my mind and heart

voices whisper raptures, too

from my lips they part

the words "I love you . . . "

From the sky I dive

without a doubt to urban blight;

ever knowing that you'll come 

tonight. 

The Name of My Angel

I have wanted to draw him for a long time. I finally did it!

My angel guards me day and night
he glows with white and shim'ring light
his long and flowing beard they spread 
down to his knees;   
Or were they indeed his knees . . . ?

My angel soothes me when I'm tense
he builds a shield for my defense
against deleterious clout and verve;
My angel he can calm my nerves.

My angel, he be old and wise
with smoke that trails from his ancient pipe.
I love him for his good advice,
his guidance and his artifice.

I wish I knew, I wish he'd tell
the name he bore with him as well
that I may call him as a friend
from now till Death shall meet my end.

-Phamiel

Meet My Mother

My new found advocacy is my e-boyfriend with whom I met on deviantart.com. According to him, we've had a few exchanges of words before, though I can hardly remember those times. I never thought that I'd end up falling in love with him, but I did and it was largely due to his courage and determination to take it further. We claimed each other on April 16 of 2011.

A week after we've conversed on Skype, my mother began to suspect my every move and so it was necessary for me to feed her curiosity for my own protection. Had I kept silent, it would have driven her mad so I confessed that I have been communicating with a man online and that I am beginning to fall for him. I sent my mom, my dad and my sister an email introducing him to the family. Still my mom was not convinced and insisted that he come to the Philippines in December to meet with us in person. No sooner than three weeks after, my e-boyfriend booked a flight to the Philippines in December and even then my mom was equivocal.

My mother's scrupulous behavior perturb my diplomacy and so I suggested that she meet him during her trip to France in June. She rebuked me and I was forced to lie to my e-boyfriend saying that my mother decided not to meet. But, 2 days later, during her stay in France,  my mother expressed a change of mind through her blackberry. She said that her friends invited her to go to Belgium and shop there since all shops are closed on Sunday in Paris. It was a twist of fate and since then I am convinced that my e-boyfriend is meant for me.

So my mother met my e-boyfriend in Brussels, Belgium last Sunday, June 19, 2011. For a whole day, my e-boyfriend rode the Hop-On-Hop-Off Bus with my mother and her friends. The last hour, he spent talking to my mother about me. It was a good day and I congratulated and thank my boyfriend for doing me this favor. It was a big leap for us and a good one.

There are more challenges to face and I sure hope we tackle them in no time at all.

Love may cease, if so let it cease
but let Loyalty take a strong hold.

 I love my e-boyfriend enough to call him my boyfriend without the e- .

My E-Boyfriend

Living in the country-side as a member of an acclaimed Golf Club where social classes determine your value as an individual; living under strict surveillance even online triples the effort of finding a significant other. Some may say that chances of meeting with a rich man at a Golf Course are higher than any other place that can only guarantee false hopes. I disagree. In fact, you can meet with a great partner online provided that you are given the freedom to express yourself instead of constantly appointing someone to monitor your activities and limiting your rights to have fun at all.(1) And so, yes, I made a break through! I found my guy online despite my parents' initial response and I am thankful that he has met with my mother in his own country (Belgium), which is by the way, a twist of fate. Thanks to that "Meet My Mother" arrangement it looks like we are given the permission to continue our long-distance-relationship or e-relationship.

So far, so good.
That is until yesterday . . .

I really didn't think of it as much of a deal, but my e-bf was persistent and insisted that I punish him for "wiping the smile off your face". So I punished him. I demanded that he cease all form of communication with me for 2~3 days and so far he has been obedient, but something tells me he's trying other ways to communicate with me.

I know and I am pretty sure that he's asking for his friend's support because one of them, who hardly ever talks to me, suddenly commented on my deviant profile (and yes I am on deviantart.com, but hush!)!! He used the MURO application'(2) and drew a geeky heart emote '<3', which my bf, for sure, passed it through his friend and unto me. So it's a bit of an indirect communication. It's so sweet. Damn. But, a punishment is a punishment! There's one more day to go.

My e-bf also tried to communicate with me by indirectly responding to my video post on facebook! I do miss him and it hurts just as much that I don't get to talk to him so, I listened to a lot of love songs online trying to comfort myself. The one song I posted this morning was "My Boy Lollipop" by Amy WineHouse's God-Daughter, Dionne Bromfield.

In this song, there's a part of the lyrics that goes "You set my world on fire." My e-bf responded to this line on facebook 2 hours later with the song, "I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire" by The Ink Spots. My heart melted as I drank San Miguel Beer while listening to it:

Still. He asked for a punishment and I intend on pushing it through. I didn't comment on his post. I remained silent. I do love him, I'd have commented if it had been any other day because it's just damn too sweet that he's trying to communicate with me in this way. It's really sweet. I hope tomorrow ends quickly so we can talk again.

My e-boyfriend was being silly, jealous and needy yesterday morning during our Skype Video Session. And yet, when I gave him the attention he craved, he was allowing himself to get distracted to other things, in this case, other windows on his computer. It made me sad. I wasn't angry, I wasn't mad, but it scared him. He begged me to scold him, get angry, or react in other ways instead of looking sad but I didn't want to. I just didn't see any point in it. I mean, it was obvious he knew why I was sad there's no reason for me to scold him or get mad.

He begged me to punish him. He begged so hard it irritated me so, I did what he asked. This "No Communication" type of punishment is just as bad for me. I can't sleep, I can't concentrate, and I can hardly do things with effervescence. My dad and my sister can vouch for that. They don't know the cause, but they can see that I am unreasonably petulant and it's starting to worry them. Still I try to keep it down. Just one more day. Just one more day . . .

*sings*
I don't want to set the world on fire.
I just want to start a flame in your heart.

I should thank my e-boyfriend for the song later . . .



(1)My mother monitors my activities for some reason. She is obsessed with me, I swear to God it's ridiculous. It's as if she can't rest if she doesn't know what goes on in my life. 
(2)Muro application is an apps on deviantart on which you can draw and send to whomever you wish to send it to on the same site. It's really fun and a great way to play with friends.

Mission for Men

Recently I have introduced a potential admirer to my parents and ever since, my loving progenitors have admonished against the blarney he's likely to exploit. Given the social status and elitist background, I am vulnerable to ambitious men who may take advantage of my fortitude and hence the family assets that I am supposedly meant to inherit in the future. 

One of my father's warning echoed in my head so much that I actually found it lateral to a 2010 remake of the movie Arthur, starring Russell Brand. The warning was this:

"It is easier for a woman to adapt to wealth than it is for a man."

I suppose it would be easier for a woman largely due to societal expectation that the man should provide and for the woman to procreate. In the movie, despite his inadequacy, Russell still manages to save Greta Gerwig's dream of becoming a writer for children. Should the situation change and it's Greta saving Russell from poverty, it is quite unappealing and mediocre of the man to be depending on the woman.

Still! Haven't there been several tales of peasant boys becoming kings? Look at King David. Wasn't he a mere shepherd boy with a slingshot? 

With all due respect, I wish to keep the relationship going with the hope that this potential admirer will become my own King David. I pray earnestly that my wish will be granted of me. Should God bless the boy, two years my junior, I will forever serve in goodness and just leadership. 

I will do God honor in exchange for this boy. 

On Optimism II

Optimism is a practice of tolerance and silent obedience. Optimism is a practice of discipline and perception. A lot of misconception about optimism leads people to view the practice, erratically, distorting the essence of the word. In my observation, the misconception is largely due to a foible that which flaccid and flimsy individuals wish to eradicate in the guise of rationalization. 

I say that optimism is a practice of tolerance for the reason that it does not judge or dismiss a person's character or behavior. While allowing a destructive mannerism to continue, the practice encourages the person to pursue his/her personal interest with acute prognosis. It brings to mind a lot of the discipline of martial arts which involves blindfolding: the trainees learn to defend and attack their opponents, implementing an amelioration of prodigious sagacity.

With brilliant percipience acquired through tolerance, optimism capacitates silent obedience. This is not to say that the person blindly follows whatever courses he/she is lead into; rather, obedience in the sense that a timely assessment is accrued. Going back to the analogy of trainees in martial arts, the trainees gauge their opponent's activities: what upsets them, their weaknesses and strength. In calculating their opponent, they can predict which form of attacks or defenses can protect them from a major damage. They obey their opponent's advances and respond accordingly.

The habit of tolerance and silent obedience depends on a set of discipline: less talk, cautious advance and more thinking. Thinking requires perception; a basic understanding of psychology or behavioral pattern: Why, How, When, and Where? 

• Why is my opponent attacking?
• How is my opponent attacking?
• When is my opponent attacking?
• Where is my opponent going to attack?

Just asking themselves those questions during a confrontation can prevent trainees from dissipating, consistently focused on their personal goals and worldly missions. 

Unfortunately, humans have that nasty habit of nitpicking, looking for a viable scapegoat to justify their ugly responses to one another. Most writers, having understood the human tendency to blame, would advocate that behavior by writing books on Optimism. Books and articles with titles such as Energy Vampires, How to Deal with Negative People, Being Positive etc., flood the internet and the literal world which only lubricates the underlying cultivation of Optimism.

Is it your fault that you're treated like a venting machine? a punching bag? an animal?

“No! It’s NOT YOUr fault! IT’S THE(M)IR FAULT and this is how you handle them.”

The message above is the primary axiom that attract perverse thinking or victim mentality, if you will. Ask yourself when you read these books and articles. Are you really a victim or are you chicken?

Faces

My dad really loves to eat. He eats more than he's required to eat despite my mom's, my sister's and my own constant reminder for him to control his daily consumption. Sometimes he would search for morsels for the sake of masticating; stop by an unfamiliar restaurant to try their menu; challenge himself with a new taste at home, etc. There's really nothing with that, in fact it's because of his love for food that I learned to appreciate different dishes from various cultures and social class.

All four of us were invited to this exclusive restaurant by my parent's wealthy acquaintance. My sister was so delighted that she begged to bring her best friend with us. Her name is Irene. Irene is of a Singaporean background: tall and lanky Chino-Vietnamese with an accent that frustrates my ears. You would think that I'd have gotten used to her voice since she has been my sister's best friend from kindergarten, but no. Each word she utter commands thrice the effort for my brain to process and the dumbstruck expression I reflect becomes an objective ground for belligerence. No. When Irene is present, I zip my lips. 

The restaurant was underground an old and run-down building located at the city port, just above the docks now empty and dark. It was a cold winter night with stealthy sea breeze that sends chilling breathes down your spine. 

Stupid perverted wind! I muttered as we descended down a dark and narrow stairway lit by dim lights. I'm wearing a damn turtle neck. Get the idea!!! I clenched my teeth. 

I tried to block out the fear lurking at the back of my head as I watched the shadows dance on the walls of the long corridor that led to the restaurant. The extreme visuals fabricated by my imaginations can be horridly graphic that there had been times when I almost lost my senses. The wind moaned louder underground and the chills stung my exposed cheeks. 

You are warm and protected in a cocoon of white light! I inhaled and exhaled trying to warm my cold body, my arms crossed and my gloved hands gripping tightly onto them. Two grim men in black suits guarded the entrance. My dad gave one of them a red envelop sealed with a maroon wax. 

They let us in.

Inside the restaurant was like the interior of a Chinese palace only, it was packed with customers in beautiful Western attire. I could barely remember the details so spare me this description. Let's skip right down to the dishes.

The soup of the evening was the first and last I ever spooned from that exclusive restaurant. It was a large bulge of grind meat right smack in a center of a large bowl decorated with carrots, cabbage, pepper, and onion. The meat was attached to a large fat at the bottom and since I hate fat, I tried to flip the meat around to remove it. At that moment Irene warned, "Don't flip it!"

"Why not?"

"The other side of this meat will not look appetizing to you and you won't want to eat it, ever. Just eat that side and leave the fat at the bottom." She suggested. 

My dad, mom and sister kept eating. I tried to follow Irene's advice and ate what looked like white balls of meat but the taste and texture was so peculiar and her words so mysterious that curiosity got the better of me and I flipped the meat to see the fat end of it.

I was horrified to see eye sockets, a cartilage where a nose must have been; lips, cheeks and a chin. The fat end of the meat was a face. The large mass of red meat was a brain. When I thought of the white balls of meat that I ate earlier as pair of eyes, I grew nauseated and ran away from the table, past other customers and out the restaurant. 

My hands pressing against the dim walls of the hallway I gagged and repelled the ingested meat, forcing them to the floor like a sludge of mud down a violent waterfall. My dad came outside to ask me if I was alright before expressing his embarrassment concerning my behavior. He repeatedly scolded me after mom joined us, who equally expressed her disappointment as I tried to clean my stomach of the human essence. I couldn't believe my ears. What am I hearing? I looked up and glared at my dad. Then I realized that everything around me including his face were too dark to be real. I was dreaming. 

Wake up! Wake up! This is horrible! WAKE UP! I screamed. I did wake up, but having realized it was  all a dream I went back to sleep. This time it was completely dark and peaceful.

Now that I've thought about it, it really didn't make sense that the brain is attached to the face. Where are the bones? I don't have a clue. All I knew then was that I was eating a human head or parts of it. That was enough detail for me. I hope this dream doesn't mean anything. It was just too graphic.