PSALM 13
23 February 2005
1 How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
4 my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing to the LORD ,
for he has been good to me.
*NIV biblegateway.com
exhaled by milbenski at 10:05 AM
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Felis sylvestris
22 February 2005
Yesterday, I ACCIDENTALLY ran over a cat in front of the UP Infirmary. It was quite disturbing to see through the rear-view mirror how that poor cat twitched and struggled in pain.
Incidentally, the night before that, I was comparing myself to a cat.
I was a kitten, enamored by a ball of yarn. I played with it for days, months, and then years.The enticing yarn strangled me for several times. With my own sharp nails, I cut the knots and tried to break loose. I enjoyed temporary comfort after that so I played with the yarn once again.
Today is one of those days that I feel all strung up- twitching and struggling in pain similar to that cat. But unlike it, I am blessed.
By-standers just stared at it with some showing no concern. But as for me, I am assured that no matter how many times I mess up, help comes to me...
...because I am saved by the grace of Christ Jesus, my Lord and my Savior. Beat that!
exhaled by milbenski at 12:02 PM
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Flowers for Me?
17 February 2005
In this modern age when everything seems to be 'accepted' by the society, it comes to me as a shock that people still put genders on things like colors, names, jobs, and so much more... and in my case... flowers.
As a child, I was brought up that blues are for little boys and pinks are for lil girls. Mechanic is a man's job while a caregiver is that of a woman. Maria is for manang and Mario is for kuya. But for flowers, let it be the local sampaguita or the imported holland tulips, these are automatically linked with the female gender.
Why? Some say that since it is the reproductive part of the plant, people associate it with that of a woman. Yeah right! As if some flowers don't have stamen (male reproductive part of the flower- yes, alfred, i know my biology better than a grade 5 student). Or probably, flowers look delicate and weak. So are these people saying that women are delicate and weak like a flower? Na-AH!
Flowers for me?
I answer, "why not?"
exhaled by milbenski at 8:35 AM
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STATUS: In a Relationship
14 February 2005
I, a bitter twenty- plus SSB (Single Since Birth), dread the hype and attention that we, taken or not, give this day of sweet nothings. Having no one but myself to intimately spend the event with, I delight in reminiscing the old days-- the personalities-- the could have been's-- my "the one"-- and the torpe little me. Stupid acts triggered by my then so called "love" bring me now to endless strings of smiles-- a by-product of being a jerk in a stage of being naive.
The world makes it appear that unattached individuals (AHEM!) are missing a lot. Its illusion magnified in occasions such as this, meaning-- no candle-lit dinner, no Hallmark greetings, no roses and Ferrero Rocher, no Let the Love Begin or Dreamboy movie (or anything along that genre but definitely that has more class), and other overrated nonsense.
(HA!HA!)
Moreover, couples are taking advantage of SUN 24/7-- checking on each other every second, texting mushy/sappy messages like "kumain ka na?", "miss u na...", "anong suot mo?" *wink *wink, and engaging in 15-30 minutes of free telebabad talking about nothing (just hearing your partner's voice is enough). All these could put so much pressure on our kind.
Call us names. Whatever! We are simply SSB. Singles So Bitter? Not quite! Singles Saya Buhay! c",)
exhaled by milbenski at 11:38 PM
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Asking the Wind
02 February 2005
I've been standing on the edge of the cliff for quite some time- long enough to be bored but too short to miss the comfort. My rest on this plateau bought me time to marvel on this great scenery of idealism. Since then, I have contemplated several times of jumping into this harsh reality- again, whatever that is.
But when I jump, will I soar or will I fall? If I soar, where will I go? And if I fall, will someone catch me then teach me how to fly?
I am confused, dazed, and tired of wondering. I turn my head and looking down I see His feet-- all the time He was with me. I sigh in peace and contentment. It matters not if I stay on the edge, or if I soar high, or even if I break my bones after the fall.
It's having Him that matters. I just hope that I remember this every second of my life.
exhaled by milbenski at 6:20 PM
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Mosaic
01 February 2005
I am a broken clay pot. Though I was glued back, I could still see the cracks and some holes as a result of unrecovered pieces.
Now, the pot feels that the glue is quickly melting and its pieces disintegrating simultaneously.
If I have collapsed completely, I think I don't want to be glued back. I prefer 'my' pieces be a part of some great mosaic.
Whatever He wills...
exhaled by milbenski at 5:23 PM
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