At dusk
3 days ago
Today's Post
17 September 2007
09 September 2007
are we really looking for love and respect?
on fashion.
Women actually control the world. if you don't want men looking at you with lust, then wear something respectable. Remember that you present yourself the way you want to be treated. So if you're going about wearing very short shorts, showing off your bra strap with a backless shirt, then it's not hard to tell what and who you're trying to attract.
Why cover your lap with your bag, when you're riding the jeepney, wearing super mini skirt, and knowing you're a little over than chubby? There's such a thing as pair of pants, or at least knee-length shorts/skirt, you know. that way you wouldn't have to use your bag, you wouldn't have to be too conscious, you wouldn't attract unnecessary stares --- nothing, but respect.
Sometimes our vanity gets the better of us. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good in front of people. Beauty is truth, and reflecting beauty which each of us has, is just the same as proclaiming truth. Nothing wrong with wanting to be beautiful, so long as it doesn't sacrifice respect, so long as it doesn't cause others to look at you with lust.
Don't be a fashion victim.
and don't enslave yourself with fashion, let fashion work for you.
on love.
Women still control the world on love. Physiologically, women think more rationally than men do, and it is for this very reason that women are not easily driven by their bodily senses. And again, it is for this reason that women could actually say "no" more than men could.
*but for the men: that's not an excuse for you to easily go with your senses, because even so, you have brains, you have your minds. so act like you have one.
For the hopeless romantics: nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, but nothing wrong either with giving yourself a little respect, a little dignity. Don't just do whatever he asks from you, because once again, you control however you want to be treated.
Women are smart, but it's such a big disappointment to see those who forget they are.
women empowerment? i don't see any other way to ask from men that we be respected, than to show them ourselves that we are worthy of respect, that we are humans with dignity. There is indeed a need of change from men, but more so from women.
Women actually control the world. if you don't want men looking at you with lust, then wear something respectable. Remember that you present yourself the way you want to be treated. So if you're going about wearing very short shorts, showing off your bra strap with a backless shirt, then it's not hard to tell what and who you're trying to attract.
Why cover your lap with your bag, when you're riding the jeepney, wearing super mini skirt, and knowing you're a little over than chubby? There's such a thing as pair of pants, or at least knee-length shorts/skirt, you know. that way you wouldn't have to use your bag, you wouldn't have to be too conscious, you wouldn't attract unnecessary stares --- nothing, but respect.
Sometimes our vanity gets the better of us. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good in front of people. Beauty is truth, and reflecting beauty which each of us has, is just the same as proclaiming truth. Nothing wrong with wanting to be beautiful, so long as it doesn't sacrifice respect, so long as it doesn't cause others to look at you with lust.
Don't be a fashion victim.
and don't enslave yourself with fashion, let fashion work for you.
on love.
Women still control the world on love. Physiologically, women think more rationally than men do, and it is for this very reason that women are not easily driven by their bodily senses. And again, it is for this reason that women could actually say "no" more than men could.
*but for the men: that's not an excuse for you to easily go with your senses, because even so, you have brains, you have your minds. so act like you have one.
For the hopeless romantics: nothing wrong with wanting to be loved, but nothing wrong either with giving yourself a little respect, a little dignity. Don't just do whatever he asks from you, because once again, you control however you want to be treated.
Women are smart, but it's such a big disappointment to see those who forget they are.
women empowerment? i don't see any other way to ask from men that we be respected, than to show them ourselves that we are worthy of respect, that we are humans with dignity. There is indeed a need of change from men, but more so from women.
02 September 2007
it's been a while
it rained so hard, and softened the land that was almost forgotten. the little ones scurried off trying to find a safe shelter for the time being. where were they during those days? we wouldn't know, because we were all caught up with our own sphere, with our own personal space.
i followed a raindrop fall down the glass window as it joined the rest of the raindrops. i wonder... was it like coming home as it joined the rest? home, as it went back to the land it came from? or was it a suicide it took as it left all the comfort and happiness from up above? we wouldn't know, because we were all caught up with our own dealings, dealings that we say are greater than anyone else's.. responsibilities that we claim are bigger than anyone else's.
so much thoughts have passed, and so much sentiments have been ignored. i'm typing this entry with a lot of thoughts in mind---so much that it throbs faster than my heart is. well it always has.
the river.
yes the river, where is it?
i turned my back
to breathe for a while
and when i'm about to go back
i can't see it anymore.
i found a seashell full of memories --- memories i don't recognize, memories that were once owned and cherished. it allowed me to see a part of the past, but i could not piece together the images flashed before me. they were not mine... no, they could not be. i have my own seashell... one that looked-- exactly like this. it had two holes on one end... much like this one. but these are not my memories, not even a single image is mine. its owner must feel so miserable to have lost his. if only it had the owner's name, i'd be happy to ride off from my raft and find my way to him.
oh, the memories? well, they were happy memories. genuine happiness that it almost made me cry. but there was one image that showed so much sadness. he was crying... i wanted to know why. i wanted to see another image that explained why, since all the rest were happy memories. who did this to you? i asked as i watched him cry. and it was even worse on my part to see him cry but could not do anything; for every image is part of the past, every image is part of someone else's memories---cherished memories. and then the next image was another of the happy times, but i could not take my mind off from the moment he was crying. it was so true...his sadness. from his smiles and laughter, it didn't seem like he was capable of crying to that extent. it did not seem like there'd ever be a moment that would make him cry. and i constantly ask why as i flip through the images. but none of them answered my question. i flipped and flipped the images, more laughter, more of those happy moments. and then i saw myself. what am i doing here? i was just seated quietly. and that was all the image could show. confused? so much.
i closed the images and stared at the seashell. i turned the seashell, as i wondered where could the owner be? ---my name. that's my name. i saw my name carved at one end of the seashell. my hands grew numb, my eyes started welling with tears, as the seashell slipped from my hand to my foot. and the images? what were the images about? the images flashed back to my mind... much like metamemories. the images started to come together as one, with the image of myself seated quietly in the middle of everything... and i looked at that image carefully, it was me, holding a seashell. a seashell? yeah. much like the one i held minutes ago. and then a new image appeared---it was me... with the seashell on my foot.
i closed my eyes for a moment, a moment i thought was long enough to take me to my next scene. but when i opened my eyes again, the images were gone, but the seashell was on my hand again. there's just one question in my mind... where is he?
i followed a raindrop fall down the glass window as it joined the rest of the raindrops. i wonder... was it like coming home as it joined the rest? home, as it went back to the land it came from? or was it a suicide it took as it left all the comfort and happiness from up above? we wouldn't know, because we were all caught up with our own dealings, dealings that we say are greater than anyone else's.. responsibilities that we claim are bigger than anyone else's.
so much thoughts have passed, and so much sentiments have been ignored. i'm typing this entry with a lot of thoughts in mind---so much that it throbs faster than my heart is. well it always has.
the river.
yes the river, where is it?
i turned my back
to breathe for a while
and when i'm about to go back
i can't see it anymore.
i found a seashell full of memories --- memories i don't recognize, memories that were once owned and cherished. it allowed me to see a part of the past, but i could not piece together the images flashed before me. they were not mine... no, they could not be. i have my own seashell... one that looked-- exactly like this. it had two holes on one end... much like this one. but these are not my memories, not even a single image is mine. its owner must feel so miserable to have lost his. if only it had the owner's name, i'd be happy to ride off from my raft and find my way to him.
oh, the memories? well, they were happy memories. genuine happiness that it almost made me cry. but there was one image that showed so much sadness. he was crying... i wanted to know why. i wanted to see another image that explained why, since all the rest were happy memories. who did this to you? i asked as i watched him cry. and it was even worse on my part to see him cry but could not do anything; for every image is part of the past, every image is part of someone else's memories---cherished memories. and then the next image was another of the happy times, but i could not take my mind off from the moment he was crying. it was so true...his sadness. from his smiles and laughter, it didn't seem like he was capable of crying to that extent. it did not seem like there'd ever be a moment that would make him cry. and i constantly ask why as i flip through the images. but none of them answered my question. i flipped and flipped the images, more laughter, more of those happy moments. and then i saw myself. what am i doing here? i was just seated quietly. and that was all the image could show. confused? so much.
i closed the images and stared at the seashell. i turned the seashell, as i wondered where could the owner be? ---my name. that's my name. i saw my name carved at one end of the seashell. my hands grew numb, my eyes started welling with tears, as the seashell slipped from my hand to my foot. and the images? what were the images about? the images flashed back to my mind... much like metamemories. the images started to come together as one, with the image of myself seated quietly in the middle of everything... and i looked at that image carefully, it was me, holding a seashell. a seashell? yeah. much like the one i held minutes ago. and then a new image appeared---it was me... with the seashell on my foot.
i closed my eyes for a moment, a moment i thought was long enough to take me to my next scene. but when i opened my eyes again, the images were gone, but the seashell was on my hand again. there's just one question in my mind... where is he?
