Yeah, I really did. I was busy these past days with field works like hiking up the mountains getting myself  grass-cuts, slips and mild sun burns, crossing several times that long winding stream just to conduct ocular survey at abaca project sites currently implemented by our local government, and surveying mangrove sites which made me want to hold my breath because of the awful smell given off by yucky mud while trying to get away unscathed from those crisscrossed branches blocking our way! It’s monitoring and evaluation works and it’s only the start. The designated M&E Head is busy nowadays with his master’s degree (is that the term?hehe) leaving a much heavier weight of responsibilities on my shoulder. It’s understandable though. I am his one and only staff. So it leaves me no choice.  Nevertheless, it was all fun despite all the hikes, sweats and scorching heat draining me out. Having said that, the physical stress was obviously the major reason I could not think as fast as I wanted to a couple of weeks ago.

Plus, I got distracted with The Vampire Diaries Season 1, to watch it for the second time only during ME time. I love solitude, you know, and I always occupy myself with things that I love doing like reading paperbacks, drawing or just merely watching movies or favorite tv shows. One of the popular TV series these days is the The Vampire Diaries (TVD). I was able to watch most of the episodes of seasons 1 and 2 that were regularly match-aired in the Philippines right after US telecast, the first time on etc channel. At present, it is airing its Season 3 every Tuesday and that makes me always euphoric on that particular day of the week!

What’s even making my day more complete is having been gifted with its books! I’ve got The Dark Reunion bought for me by my good Aunt and The Return: Shadow Souls from a good friend. I don’t have the complete set yet but I can have the others one of these days I was done reading with the former and the latter is what I am now hooked into.

I’ve found out that the story written in the book authored by L. J. Smith is a lot different from its TV version. The creators of TVD (on tv) have plotted a lot of twists and turns of events and personally, I love it. I like their idea of making a story out of the story because I get to feel the excitement from digesting pictures of different sources. Both actually are gripping and so are the characters, most especially Damon Salvatore, coming into life on television in the person of Ian Somerhalder.

<3 Ian Somerhalder <3 Got this from a website I forgot what link it was

 I love his smirk, the nonchalance, the cocky grin, the twitching of the mouth and above all, the handsome face! He he… He definitely gives justice to the bad-vampire-yet-with-a-soft-heart-deep-within image. If it were for real, not just some story published or aired on TV, and if I were the female protagonist, the Elena, I would love to go for Damon.

My choice reflects my personality. I get easily smitten with men who can be such a headache but still have the gentlest spot within him. I love men who can love women the way Damon does. He’s the untamed who has been slowly tamed and that is pretty exciting to me…

Ha! My mind says let’s not dwell on this topic any longer. Hehe! It’s all about feelings again! Crushes! Blame it to Ian Somerhalder! Haha! Mind you, I rarely have had a crush on celebrities and he certainly has that effect on me. But he’s a celebrity so it’s quite normal to sometimes feel that way, right?

But as Damon Salvatore? This has made me wonder why some girls, even young women including me, tend to fall in love with fictional characters which I think is not as normal as having crush on actors like Ian Somerhalder. He he… Maybe a good night sleep will keep me sane and this post, too, is getting nowhere. He he… So sweet dreams readers and bloggers. :*

*As always, this post is still not edited. subject for refinement when I feel like doing it. He he!

It was one of those dreaded days of our lives.  It had been haunting us since the day I and my sister knew the meaning of the depressing aspect of our every life. It was a replay of the dark past but this time, things were different…

Monday, off from work…

It was time to go off from work. I had no idea what awaited me at home that day. I leisurely walked down the street thinking of nothing but my usual routines but things turned into chaos for the nth time…

I dropped by the store of my Aunt for a chat with them when I found out  I got home a little late of the commotion. My father wanted to chop down my mother’s and sister’s phones. We know very well our father. He cannot lift a single strand of my mother’s hair unless when severely provoked. Ooppss! Don’t get me wrong though. My father is not a sadist, of course, but he still is a human and humans have the tendency to get overpowered with anger depending on the circumstances. He just blamed their phones because my mother and sister have sort of spies near where that slut lives. As much as he wanted to break those gadgets into pieces, realization dawned upon him and sort of awakened him from being irrational. Later that night, my father went home drunk and took an early sleep. So the night passed by peacefully but it left us all drifting, searching and even demanding for truth, even for confirmation.

The next day everything went well. Just on the surface of the situation though. Beneath the pretense was the dormant tension waiting for its time to erupt.

Tuesday, Lunch time…

Lunch break for employees is such a short time to spend with either your family or friends. So, I hurriedly picked up my things and slid them into my bag to get home as early as possible and be able to be back to the office by 1:00 PM.

Nobody was in the living room when I arrived. Nobody even had just eaten their meals because I sometimes could not make it having lunch with my family. I thought that maybe they were too tired from peddling works to gather on time on our meal that day and so I decided to eat my lunch alone.

Just when I was so engrossed watching a particular tv show aired on Bio while having a lonely lunch, my mother opened the door and walked up from their bedroom. (The master’s bedroom, by the way, is now located downstairs leaving the original to me.) I noticed her eye-bags were bulging and knew instantly she had just come from crying. So I asked her what happened. There was an apparent crack in her voice when she responded but still managed to finish every single word. It was obviously a bad news, a nightmarish bad news. She said (translated),

“Your father is still seen visiting his other woman.”

Of course, my father has been good to us. He is not the expressive type. He is not good in words but he fathers us in the best way he can. He rarely gets mad at us and I can’t remember him in my childhood days lifting a hand at me. Even if he did, he was not like my mother when it came to physical discipline. He still is not even until now.  He knows how to work on his temper under pressure especially in the middle of an intense argument with my mother. For as long as he can hold on, he won’t do any drastic move that may hurt my mother physically.

He is a kitchen-man, too, and it is also one thing we love about him. You will not get starved because he loves cooking for his family and it is one thing rare among men.

I do love my father much. I do not often express what I feel but I really do more than he ever knows but as the famous philosopher quoted, “Men are born polygamous.” Unmistakably, my father is not an exception.

I am an open-minded person. I do agree with that Aristotle’s famous line but it’s one thing I hate about my father.

That news my mother just broke to me was distressing. I made no response. I just continued watching while eating but even if I did, she then turned away without waiting a word from me. She went back to their room with her words lingering. She left me with those upsetting thoughts rampaging every corner of my mind. The thought of feeling betrayed kept on nagging me. The mere thought that he had not stopped seeing that slut despite being confronted the past month and despite even risking my reputation for slamming that bottle of beer in front of his peer was infuriating. He broke his promise for the nth time and that slowly ignited the anger building up inside me. I could burst into outrage any minute if I wanted to but I kept my cool. I kept digesting my food as well as that terrible news.

Aggravating the situation was seeing my sister’s eyes swollen from too much crying. I knew pretty well she came from crying and it was obvious she was trying to hold it back when she got past me and went out. I, however, held myself still. Irritation was reflecting on my face. It was a defense mechanism whenever my father would put us to shame but I quickly brushed off what was troubling me at that very moment. I needed to because I still had to leave house for work.

I reported to the office on that afternoon acting like nothing went wrong at home. I possess a rare attitude of not bringing any angst in my life when I am in another territory. I know when to forget problems and I know when to think of them. I also know how to block the pain away from me but I have also the tendency to absorb all the negative emotions emanating from a particular ordeal, keeping them to myself until I explode on very rare days. Sad to say, it was one of those days.

It was one of the most unforgettable days of my life yet one of the saddest. Things got out of hand. My sister went out without telling anybody what her plans were. With spies in constant communication with her, she went there alone wishing she would be able to catch my father and the slut together in the latter’s house. She wanted solid proofs so badly to slap them down on their faces. Consequently, it would be hard for my father to come up with more alibis, more lies.

Things, however, didn’t go as hoped for but she was able to confront the slut.

And that slut denied all the accusations.

Depressing as it was but it was later that night that my father had unknowingly taken the bait set by my mother. He slipped and uttered the most terrible words I had ever heard. He was there when my sister confronted the slut, hiding for a couple of minutes and just listening to them. What made it worse was when he unthinkingly confirmed part of all the accusations. I didn’t know if I had to be thankful to that liquor. I know the best confrontation is when everybody is sober, when everybody is not mad but looking on the other side of it, the sudden confrontation fortunately set the truth free. That partial confirmation made me conclude it was all real. It was all true and what made it worst was when I happened to let go every anger I had kept all these times. I knew he can never forget everything that I did and said on that night for the rest of his life because I cursed the slut, wishing she’d die. I even cursed the child still inside her womb. I cursed her kid. I mouthed bad words at my father. I was screaming out every word while shedding tears. I screamed and screamed while pounding and pounding my arms so hard on the arm of the couch.  It took me a couple of seconds to release my anger and for a fleeting moment, shock reflected on my father’s eyes. It was his first time to see me go real mad. All the emotions pestering me had gone me berserk because I could no longer take it. At one point, I even threw a pillow at him so hard. It was just a pillow but the impact it had on him was unbearable that he went and grabbed my hair. Reflexively, my mother and my sister caught us before he could hurt me and that was the moment, my sister mouthed bad words at him, defending me.

Yes, it was one of the most unforgettable days of my life but one of the saddest. It was even followed when I attempted to talk to him during lunch, aiming to prevail rational minds accompanied with low voices. Things again did not go as aimed for. He raised his voice and that triggered me. Out of anger, I told him this painful line, “I do not respect you anymore!”, which he replied saying, “From now on, never call me Papa.”

I knew my violent reactions were just the reflections of what he did to us but deep within me, I knew that despite everything what my father had done wrong, he still is my father. I knew I went out of the boundary but I still love him more than he ever knows. My respect for him has not gone vanished despite throwing those harsh words at him. I knew it was only because I was so mad at him for hurting us so many times but I deeply regret having said all those cruel words.

No matter what, a father is always a father. Your father is always your father. My father is always my father. I just hope and pray that someday, things will turn out fine again.

Anyway, my mother and sister are now in good terms with my father, slowly working things out but unfortunately, I and he are still not. 

I know this post is too much of a public diary but I hope my revelations will help you realize many things in your lives.

Thanks for droppin’ by and reading some of my thoughts. Just by doing so, it’s like you’re listening to everything that’s troubling me.

*Unedited post

Let my drawing and some photos express my thoughts. Don’t worry. It’s not something bad

Again, I lost count as to  how many drawings I have created since 2010 but this is my 30th if not mistaken. I am just not good at remembering numbers.

Anyway, here’s my 30th drawing (right side). The original copy of my version is, of course, not covered with transparent blue. Shown below is watermarked with my name and year created or edited.

right side: my drawing version of a "Little Maiden"---left side: model

Me (jinjin corvera) and two of my framed drawings hung on our wall ---> The Queen in a Garden & Pretty in Pink

Me (jinjin corvera) and two of my drawings hung on our wall ---> Girl in Red Hat & A Beautiful World (2nd version)

I think this is my 2nd briefest blog I’ve ever published.  I am just in no mood for a long draft today. *sigh

Have a great day anyway. Be happy!

2nd Version my drawing of "A Beautiful Night". Its original is not covered with a "transparent sheet".

I lost count actually but it’s my 28th if I’m not mistaken.

A fellow blogger, named Renxkyoko, commented saying (for some reason) one of my drawings illustrated in my essay called “Simple Living“reminds her of Grandma Moses’ works. I then googled her. I only saw some of her creations and whoa! Grandma Moses’ artworks are amazingly beautiful! Her “Beautiful World”, “Checkered House” and some other country’s sceneries are soothing to look at. Now that I get to know tidbits of her life and works, I cannot help looking up to her and making her one of my inspirations because at such an age, her paintings are commendable, not to mention, the category of her art is one that I love most to pursue.

She does her masterpieces using REAL painting or drawing materials while I do mine via Mouse with the help of Photoshop’s tools. She can paint real scenes while I still can’t. She is a pro while I am still a newbie. We may be different in some ways but overall, we are just the same because we share the same passion. We both love ART and ours is called as “Self-taught Art”.

I was not inclined to Art way back younger years. Art for me was being able to draw real faces, real houses, real things using charcoal and those various painting and drawing materials. Art for me was not easy because it really is not easy.

Things changed just last year, 2010. Boredom and curiosity had introduced me to the beauty of the world of colors. Out of boredom and curiosity, I began exploring Photoshop, making sketches like that of a kid’s using its tools like pencil, brush, and a bucket of paint. Nobody actually told me it is possible to draw via that application. Nobody taught me how to create things artistically. It was just me and my curiosity.

It’s not easy learning Photoshop. It’s got quite a lot of tools and steps that you need to familiarize. Nevertheless, drawing my subjects does not require many complicated tools and instructions. It’s only a matter of patience and “hand-control”. I started from scratch and here’s my first:

My drawing:jinjin corvera's "A Beautiful Life" drawing_1st drawing 2010

Haha! I call it a drawing just for the sake of drawing. My second came out way better than that shown above. This next piece was first published as one of my illustrations of my essay entitled, “Once A Paradise” and even managed to create its 3^rd version (still published on that essay).

My drawing: jinjin corvera's A Beautiful Night Version 1 drawing_2nd drawing 2010

My drawing career is just a hobby. It started just last year and in a span of 2 years, I have been able to create almost 30 pieces. My works were first published at my facebook account. I then posted them at my WP site (The Diary of Yramjin) but decided to privately publish them after a couple of months, uploaded some in my imageshack account and even in photobucket.

Most of my drawings depict little women and one of them is the next piece you’re going to see.

The queen shown below was created because I got interested in one of the framed cross-stitched queens hung on my granny’s house’s walls (previously described as “crocheted” because I had mistaken the term, “cross-stitched” to “crocheted”).

After a few months, I tried creating a garden by making two to three flowers (then replicated), a tree and a grass. I drew each separately. Now, take a look as every single detail is fused in a frame.

My drawing:jinjin corvera's "The Queen in a Garden" drawing_2010, Its original is not covered with a "transparent sheet".

“The Queen in a Garden” is originally not covered with a “transparent sheet”. This was out once when I had it printed out in a particular printing press at San Francisco, Agusan del Sur along with 3 of my masterpieces. Its printed copy, however, was not totally like that shown above. The head of the queen (first version) was flat and it was fitted in a 10” x 11” size of a canvas. That shown above was edited. Notice her head is not flat anymore and there are a bunch of flowers added. Furthermore, it had been resized to fit a 2’ x 3’ sheet and was filtered more than twice.

Its solo photo (the queen alone) was first posted at my facebook account but was then hidden (a facebook acquaintance named Precious F. told me she had saved the image for her desktop background). It was also published here in my blog as one of the illustrations of my poem entitled “Woman is a Woman” (a poem where all my drawings were posted individually on its first release and during when I reblogged it but were made as border of my gravatar and in that poem on the 3^rd time it had been published—>I deleted all my illustrations though.)

Anyway, all my works published on a particular site are edited by applying one or more effects. Their originals are still kept in my computer. Be it known that all the illustrations shown in either poem or essay on my blogsite are created by no other than yours truly, Yramjin or Jinjin Corvera. All rights reserved.

I’m not feeling well. So good night guys

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011. All rights reserved.

The sun rose up, shining ever so brightly at the eastern portion of the azure sky with shards of light trying to peek through the drapes hung carelessly just above my head. With almost 7:00 AM flashed on the small screen of my bedside clock, I quickly brushed off the temptation to tarry along with my unending reveries and dragged myself out of bed. I then cleaned up and made my way downstairs to prepare for work.

I did everything in haste as usual.

And just like any ordinary days, I walked down the street hurriedly just to make it at the office on time. It was time for an 8-hour work.

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock!

Finally, it was 5:00 in the afternoon…

It was time to go home. I shut down my personal computer, slid my things into my graffiti-decorated tote bag, made my way toward another building for a queue and waited for my turn to log-out via biometric clock. Having imprinted my index fingerprint on the gadget and then notified via recorded voice-message that it was successfully verified, I left and ambled down the road, thinking of fixing myself a hot and spicy canton noodles (which I happened to forget upon arriving at our house).

At home…

Our house is in a small compound adjacent to my granny’s and uncle’s houses.  It’s called a triplex but not the typical triplex. It is not a 3-story type. Rather, each family has had their own house built (not an apartment) with adjoining doors and respective gates.

Upon entering into one of the gates, I saw my favorite little girls, my niece and first cousin, talking nonstop inside my aunt’s grocery store. They were playing boisterously, gallivanting around the store. I always love playing with them but I decided to just walk past them and made my way toward our two-story house.

Minutes after, I went back to my little girls and “teasingly bickered” with them. After awhile, I charmed them to come with me for a “pictorial session”. They were thrilled with the idea of having to pose in front of camera and immediately went with me, guiding them carefully as we took our every step upstairs.

My bedroom…

Upon entering the room, they giggled seeing those Disney princesses stickered on my headboard and grabbed anything that caught their attention. Geez! They were unstoppable! Good thing I still managed to make them behave and project in front of a self-timed cellphone camera!

Tink! Tink! Tink! – Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink! Tink!

Click!

Flash!

Here are some of our cute shots!

me and my little girls

me and my little girls

me and my little girls

me and my little girls

me and my little girls

me and my little girls

Yes, it was just an ordinary day, from waking up to working to playing with the kids. It went well just like the days that passed. Nothing spectacular but as time went by, something wrong happened, something eerie…?

Hours went unnoticed until it was time to retire for a long night ahead. I am used to totally locking myself up in my room when sleeping at night because I cannot sleep knowing the shutters are open. So I closed everything that needed to be closed, switched the light off, turned the light on at the altar, and went to sleep.

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock!

I could not sleep.

The smoke out of the burnt rubber or maybe plastics just nearby was trapped in my room, suffocating me. Despite the nasty smell from the combusted materials, I tried to get some sleep and luckily managed to a couple of minutes after.

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock!

Suddenly, I woke up in the middle of the night with darkness engulfing the room. It was what we call “brownout”. The electricity went out.  So I decided to get up to turn on the emergency light. Just when I was about to push its button, I noticed through my “left sideways vision” that something had flashed from the window.

My heart thudded frantically because instinctively, I knew something strange happened… A tiny voice was telling me the shutters were open but I was not sure…

It was just a mere hunch. Just to confirm what I was dreading of, I went over it and found out exactly what I had in mind.

The lower set of the shutters were, indeed, open…

It was unthought of because I never experienced something like it before particularly upstairs. I then found myself re-running everything I did before I slept a few hours ago.

I did close all the windows, didn’t I?

Deep within me, I knew I did. I can’t sleep knowing the shutters are open, remember? One more thing, the door was locked. There was nobody in the room besides me! So who did it?

Was there a presence of someone there besides me? If so, then why did that someone open the window?

Was that someone concerned about me?

Maybe…?

Perhaps, that someone was worried I might get suffocated with that nasty smell? Perhaps it’s the reason why that someone opened the window for me…?

Hmmm… This is what I have gotten into from watching Celebrities Ghost Stories, My Ghost Story and Psychic Kids on the BIOgraphy channel.

Now, I still close everything that needs to be closed. I still lock the door up before sleeping but I do not switch the light off anymore.

Trivia: Have you ever had a nightmare that gives you goosebumps? You are half-asleep, half-awake, eyes half-opened, when suddenly you see a flimsy white  gown, nightgown (just the portion of it though), hovering over you so near. It is as if she were responsible for your struggle… the struggle to move even just the tip of your finger and the struggle to get yourself fully awake and set yourself free from her…

It happened just yesterday, August 15, 2011… You may find me freak or whatever but I believe in paranormal stuff. I believe in supernatural. I know they exist.

*Unedited post. I don’t like this post of mine.

Of course, I was not born in the old days. The world is constantly changing and the most part of these changes is composed of developments. And like many others, I have embraced these developments attached to modernity. The emergence of high technologies, for instance, has always wowed me. The power of humans’ minds bestowed by the Omnipotent is quite impressive because through them science has unfailingly brought the world to a new higher level.

Amidst all these innovations vying for the attention of anyone of us, I am still much drawn to what the small towns like ours can offer. Our town is one of those slow-paced from activities to gadgets to equipment to machineries to trendy fashions to establishments to almost everything. It is quite ordinary but I find its serenity way worth living for, which to others, a boredom. Nevertheless, I am a sucker for boredom. Their boredom is my way of fun and that simply explains why my preference is very much contradictory to most people of my age…

Because Fun for me is being able to look up, look sideways, look everywhere internalizing every small detail Mother Nature has proudly exhibited before our very eyes…

Because Fun for me is being able to enjoy the moment in solitude, reading, drawing, writing and doing anything that fancies me like those talented protagonists in a famous novel written by Louisa May Alcott called “Little Women”…

Because Fun for me is being able to afford the time mingling, laughing, comforting, working, talking with family and friends…

Because Fun for me is quietude and quietude for me is peacefulness…

I may sound like weird but I am not. I’m neither an introvert nor whatever you think that may fit my personality. It’s just that a quiet place is a peaceful and safe place.  Whenever I look at those drawings illustrated in fairytale books, I find those dense cool forests, colorful beautiful flowers, amazing heights of mountains and trees, the country homes and the old lifestyle of people so serene, so peaceful, so content. Believe it or not, but I really do. It makes me wonder how it will be like living in such a beautiful world where contentment is all that matters.

Oh! Don’t get me wrong. Of course, our town does not look like that of those illustrations shown in children’s bedtime storybook.

Simple and peaceful living is what they both have.   

I know you may object. But we are entitled to our respective preferences, aren’t we?

Now, let me share with you something that I love doing. Thankfully, I was able to draw my ideal place in the best way I could. I had published this masterpiece of mine last year but made some revisions on My 20th Drawing: Country Life. Don’t just take a look. Go beyond what you see.

my drawing: jinjin corvera's "Simple Living" drawing_2011: Previously published without "transparent sheet". Now, i republish it but with that "transparent sheet".

Note: This post should have been published last week. I’m a new member of the Post A Week 2011, remember? But my mind was kinda messy. It even is until now. I just hope I’m able to deliver my message right.

*Unedited post

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011. All rights reserved.

But ah! My friend, this overexposure has taught me in many different ways…

Blogging has taught me how to have fun in solitude.

Blogging has taught me to explore my artistic abilities, enhance my writing and drawing skills.

Blogging has taught me not to repress, but express myself in such a good way so others may learn from my musings. It is my Public Diary, hence, called as the “The Diary of Yramjin” where thoughts unleashed, set free, unveiled, revealed, divulged, disclosed!

My thoughts may be crazy, boring, cluttered sometimes, but sometimes, it’s from being crazy, boring, and cluttered that you may be able to learn something.

I am not a regular blogger. I do not post that too often like everyday. But I definitely can each week. With WordPress now giving us a challenge to do so, I am much more willing to take that challenge!

I want to join in WordPress Post A Week 2011!

And be the best I can every week just to keep you posted.

By the way, here are some of my fave old thoughts expressed via poem, essay and drawing:

MY POEMS (some with my drawings as illustrations):

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/09/22/the-concepts-of-war/

- The Concepts of War

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/dillydallying-800am-plus/

- Dillydallying = 8:00AM plus

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/repressed/

- Repressed…

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/07/07/450/

- One, Two, Three Sssshhhhhh…

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/06/25/nowhere/

- Nowhere

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/09/23/woman-is-a-woman-2/

- Woman is a Woman

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/06/05/stare-by-jinjin/

-”Stare”

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/05/30/poeman-outlet

- “ABYSS”

MY ESSAYS:

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/07/07/the-trying-hard-writer/

- The Trying Hard Writer

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/07/15/in-my-dreams/

- In My Dreams

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/07/22/unrequited/

- Unrequited

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/06/13/once-a-paradise/

- Once a Paradise

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/06/07/pouring-out/

- Part I: Pouring Out

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/06/20/part-ii-pouring-out/

- Part II: Pouring Out

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/06/24/the-last-confession/

- Part III: Pouring Out

SOME OF MY DRAWINGS:

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/07/03/my-versions-of-gorgeous-girl-my-25th-masterpiece/

- My Versions of Gorgeous Girl: My 25th Masterpiece

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/06/25/rock-couple-my-24th-masterpiece/

- ROCK COUPLE: My 24th Masterpiece

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/my-20th-drawing-country-life/

- My 20th Drawing: Country Life

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2010/07/28/unexpected-gift-of-art-my-19th-drawing/

- Unexpected Gift of Art: My 19th Drawing

http://yramjin.wordpress.com/2011/01/09/my-1st-of-2011-my23rd-masterpiece/

-My 1st of 2011:My23rd Masterpiece

*unedited post

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011

“Your instinct is absolutely right.”

The message conveyed was simple. She knew my little secret.

Then I woke up. Sensing the coldness of the dawn, I curled up and snuggled closer to my pillow. It was only a dream but one of the briefest.

The following night was somehow linked to the first one but the scene was played longer than the previous and this time, it was much more distinct.

July 18, 2011. I was standing beside the table located near the rows of plastic chairs (not the monobloc type, but one you can usually see in terminals), holding a pen for the whiteboard laid on that table. I was told to write down the name of the woman in my dream of the preceding night. Without thinking, however, my right hand scribbled *Private instead of the woman’s. I have a nice handwriting but I wrote his name with strokes that looked like not mine. But  my dream said it was mine.

Then I began writing her name after his, slightly embarrassed because her husband was standing next to me, aware of the first name I wrote, making me feel that he was quite aware of my little secret, too. But I dismissed the feeling and continued writing. Odd as it was, but I got a real hard time writing down the first vertical line of the first letter of her name. I tried again and again but it was like, now a fully loaded pen, then it quickly ran out of ink.

All of a sudden, I stopped, looked around and noticed something was strange with the place. It dawned upon me that I was in the waiting area of an airport. My gaze went directly into the man sitting in one of the plastic chairs in the first row. It was *Private. His face was serious but somehow, I could see he was anxiously waiting for his flight amidst the unmindful hazy figures of the crowd mostly walking to and fro.

He didn’t seem to have noticed me. So I got back on my work, still desperately trying to draw the first line of the woman’s name. Then the husband said something even without being asked and pointed towards his direction,

“Look! *Private took another seat, even farther from us.”

I looked up again and confirmed he really did, no longer in a waiting area, but now, inside an airplane. The transformation of the milieu was pretty quick. I saw him sitting at the far end but beside where an outlet was easily accessible, plugging-in something like MP4 or whatever that gadget was. I knew he was soundtripping because I could clearly see those white-coated thin wires of the headset stuck into his ears, his head even a bit swinging to the rhythm of what he was listening to.

Still, his face reflected seriousness. Nothing changed.

Then I wondered, “Does he see me, too? Or I am just a viewer in this dream?”

But he did see me as far as I could remember! That part was confusing but I didn’t know where the sudden twinge of feeling rejected came from. It suddenly engulfed me, arising many why’s like why he just sat there, making no move, just listening to music, and totally ignoring us.

Something like a premonition…

Then reality struck. I woke up. Since it was still dark outside, I went back to sleep.

Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock… Tick… Tock!

Daybreak set in. Finally, it was morning.

The morning chill greeted me, dragging me out of bed as early as almost 6:00 o’clock. I forced myself to get moving because I needed to be there at the office on but preferably before 7:30 to ready for the MSC Site Verification of Round 1 CFAD Subprojects. I am not one of the MSC members but I was required to go with them at barangays assigned to Group 1, ****, **** and *****. (MSC, by the way, is composed of LGU employees (mostly department heads) and non-government sector representatives.)

We were to set forth as early as possible. So, I did my morning rituals in a rush. Donning my just-above-the-knee black walking shorts paired with a yellow racerback and with my hooded red-and-blue jacket on top of the shirt, I then left the house in a hurry to get on those pending office works before leaving.

At the office…

The Special Project room was in its usual chaos when I arrived, particularly my desk. Papers everywhere, computers and printers left undusted, files just dumped into filecases. Ugh! Spare me with the deafening sermon. The clutters were not distracting though. We have already grown accustomed to that total disorder. Haha! So there I was, working on some unfinished documents that needed to be bid later in the afternoon.

A couple of minutes after, Group 1 members set off towards the first destination, ******. I got on an old motorcycle owned by one of the MSC members, thinking it should have been HIM, driving, had HE not resigned. I used to get a ride on his motorbike, remember? I could not help those memories from flashing back because ****** happened to be one of his assigned areas.

Upon our arrival, I briefly briefed the members with the activity, providing them each with a verification form. Immediately, the boring yet strenuous verification began. As things went on, I could not help get silently exasperated. It was not only me, even some of the members and staff. Our boss was so much into details. There was nothing wrong in being particular though but due to time constraint, getting things fast was the best option. We needed to hurry up, hurried but concise. No digression. Alas! We spent more or less 3 hours in ***** with only one subproject site validated. Not to mention, we still had 4 subprojects on the waiting list. See my point?

Anyway, around 10:30 in the morning, we were done with the interviews at last! Only the interview! We still had to survey the project area of that organization. Still deciding on where to start trekking, some suggested choosing the most accessible. But our boss had another thing in mind which was the location where the stripping machine could be accessed by the recipients. Ugh! And that meant going to the “Upper” under the scorching heat of the sun. Just the thought of it made me sweat real good. Fortunately, it could be accessed, not just on foot, but via motorcycles. Yey!

Broooommmmm…… Broooommmmm……. Broooommmmm…..!!!

Upon reaching a much higher plain ground, passing through a winding stream that sometimes made the ride rough because of those loose gravels; we finally saw the area allotted for the machine. The guide then pointed the gigantic mountains looking down upon us, informing the group that those would be the planting sites for abaca.

That's me in a hooded red and blue!

While they were still talking about the project, one of my ate’s in the office captured these beautiful faces via another officemate’s phone… Click! Flash!  (we forgot to bring the office digi-cam!)

They're cute, aren't they? Thanks Nang Malyn Morgado

To make the story short, we ended the day at around 6:00 in the evening. It was a long day and it totally drained me physically and EMOTIONALLY because in between the gaps, he was constantly bugging my wandering thoughts.

As soon as I got home, I slouched for a couple of minutes on a couch, eyes starting to drop. Before I could totally doze off to sleep, I got up and went upstairs chatting with a friend via text messaging, call and facebook comment-chat.

We were talking about *Private for more than an hour. I even shared to her one part of conversation between me and Him. I sent all those messages despite my mobile load exceeding the SmartPlan limit.

Then, during one of her calls, she broke the just received news from our common friend. It was about the “bet” made a few nights ago between me and them (her and our friend). They believed *Private and I had a mutual feeling. They were trying to convince me to agree with them. I admit I was holding on to that tiny hope that, somehow, they were right but I just could not see their logic. I opposed and said (not quite close though),

“I know that guy. He doesn’t have anything for me other than friendship. I am not his type. The qualities he’s been looking for in a girl are way too “high”. He’s such a finicky type.”

Then they came up with a plan. *Gur would befriend *Private. She would later devise a strategy to know which side he would be on, theirs or mine.

A few days passed, and then the day of judgment had finally come.

She was actually hesitant at first but I persistently insisted to spill it out. I knew outright that it was something not in favor on my side but still managed to ask despite the threatening tears,

“It’s a bad news, isn’t it?”

She answered warily, “Yeaaah.”

And added just the tidbits of that bad news I wasn’t even quite sure if I heard it right,

“*Gur said you’ll get hurt hearing this one. It will be too painful for you to know. She even cried while reading it. I hate him Yram! It’s like my chest gets suffocated I can’t breathe.”

Those were not the exact words (as translated) relayed by Kareen but the conversation was more like it. Just when she already had the guts to divulge everything, I feared hearing the painful truth.

So I said decisively, in the best normal tone I could muster,

“Don’t say it over the phone Kareen. Just send it to me via text.”

But she wanted to hear me out. She wanted to listen to me. She said she wanted to comfort me in any possible way. So she insisted telling me over the phone but I refused and laughingly said,

“Nooooo! I won’t listen. I won’t listen to whatever you’re gonna say. Just send it to me through text.“

Then the line was disconnected. The 5-minute call just ended. She made another 5-minute free call but I deliberately pushed the End button. So she texted me saying,

“Just let me tell you via voice call. You’re then free to end that call right after.”

Another call was then made. My phone rang. I just looked at it for a couple of seconds, contemplating. I knew the answer even before we made the bet but sometimes, I could not help myself holding on to that tiny hope, getting lost to  that blinding euphoria, hoping that maybe… Just maybe…

Then I decided to answer the call, the call that changed everything.

(This was not exactly the way she told me the news but it was close to it. We were talking in our own dialect. I just translated our conversation and it’s as far as I can remember.)

Kareen said,

“*Gur posted a message on my wall awhile ago saying I should OL. She said it was something urgent. A few minutes after, we chatted and informed me she already had the answer and it was something negative. She even cried the moment she read it. Their chat went this way. They agreed to be honest in everything they’re gonna say. So she asked *Private which He answered typing in all capital letters (translated), “I DON’T HAVE ANY SPECIAL FEELINGS FOR HER, EVEN JUST A SINGLE BIT.”  I hate him Yram. He could have kept it to himself rather than telling her quite frankly.”

I was silent for awhile. I did not quite know how to react. But I still managed to collect myself and chuckled saying,

“No comment. There’s nothing I can do with that. It’s the truth. Maybe he just wants me to stop…”

Deep inside me, however, I agreed with her.

How could he be so brutally honest when he could have just kept it to himself? Why letting others know? He could have confronted and told me straight. Painful but much more acceptable. Why involving others? How could he be so arrogant…? He could have, at least, considered our friendship but apparently, he didn’t. He could have…. Ugh! Never mind. He had every right to be that indiscreet.

Good thing I still managed to make my voice as steady as I could because at one moment, I even swallowed hard that lump in my throat. I could be congratulated for not letting out a sob while we were talking. It was painful. It pierced right through. Kareen tried to console me and I was thankful she was there despite the distance.

It was then that I remembered my dream, the second dream. I knew he did see me because our eyes met but he was so distant in that dream. He acted as if he never saw us or maybe me, rather. He never smiled at me despite us being friends. He never did…

He did nothing but just sat there, making no move, just listening to music and totally ignoring us.

Something like a premonition coming true…

Till next boring session guys!

*Unedited post…Please feel free to make some corrections on my grammar.

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011

Have you ever had dreams?

It’s a stupid question, isn’t it? Because of course, we do have dreams every night. Some we can recall. Some we can’t. It’s amazing how our brain can be so hardworking, functioning 24 hours when it should have been resting, too, during our sleep. Like me, I know you have also been dying to unveil the mystery behind dreams.

Like why do we have to dream?

Where do all those images, emotions, sensations come from?

Why do we feel like all those events seem real?

Is it possible our spirits would actually leave our bodies for a certain period of time and be back on the time set by our biological clock?

Is it possible that, while our physical bodies meet and interact with others during awake, our spirits would take over and do the same thing but during asleep?

In a much more direct question, do our spirits meet while our bodies are lying on bed, snoring and soundly asleep?

Or Are our subconscious thoughts messing up into our minds during our sleep?

These are just some questions that can certainly make our minds whirl. We, humans, are proven to be insatiable, always craving for knowledge butwith DREAM alone, it can definitely busy our minds with so much puzzles.

 So what then is a Dream?

Dream is scientifically elucidated. Based on the observations accumulated by some dedicated scientists, Dreams are strongly associated with Rapid Eye Movement (REM). The depth of its meaning, however, is unfathomable for ordinary people like us who are not acquainted with the complexity of the scientific world. Sometimes, the psychological and spiritual explanations are more graspable and more compelling than what science has to offer because of the mystery they implicate.

Personally, I would say dreaming at night is just the same with daydreaming. The only difference is the “directors” assigned in those dreams. We can be the directors of our reveries or daydreams but we can’t in our night dreams because night-dreams are uncontrollable.

So why the blah-blah of dreams?

Now, let me tell you something about my dreams some few nights ago. You may be wondering why I have included this in my diary. Firstly, it is my first time experience to have dreamed of someone successively. It is not a recurring dream in terms of events. Rather, it is a recurring dream in terms of who I am with. Secondly, those dreams have stories and meanings to tell. They seem to go with the flow because I find them coincidental with reality. Lastly, those dreams are the only ones I can remember among the series, the most vivid ones. Thanks to my hippocampus!

Now, let’s go inside my mind and rewind those intriguing dreams…

1^st Dream (July 7, 2011). “I was sitting on my bed, busy chatting via facebook with him. It was kinda weird because I could see him. I could see his reactions, making me conclude that the uneasiness between us was starting to fade. I could even feel it while dreaming.

It was a brief conversation. We started from “Musta?” to replying “I’m okay.” Then I asked him (translated),

“When will be your flight?”

Just when he was about to reply, I woke up.

2^nd Dream (July 8, 2011). The scene was all so sudden like it came from out of nowhere. I saw him talking to his mother on the phone, desperately begging her to find him another (something like) employment. He was almost on the brink of crying. What was strange again was I saw them talking despite their distance. Then I realized they could not see me. It was like watching a conversation between a mother and son in a movie or some tv shows. I was not able to find out what her mother could have said to pacify him because I suddenly woke up.

3^rd Dream (July 9, 2011). The setting was in the office, particularly at the dirty kitchen. I was standing while he was sitting on a small bench. It was like he was preparing something, a food perhaps? This dream was a bit hazy. I can only remember a few like I was not the viewer anymore. I was part of the scene. I saw him and he saw me. Then poof! Two of our officemates came into the scene like some fairies or people with magic suddenly appearing. Strange, eh? Then I woke up.

4^th Dream (July 11, 2011). Recalling the events of this dream, only two faces keep flashing back, his and my first love’s. Period. This was the most indistinct dream among the series.

5^th Dream (July 12, 2011). The second vaguest dream. I saw his lovely partner in the scene. I didn’t see him but I could feel his presence. This dream let me focused more on the feeling of realization dawning upon me. From that instant while looking at his partner, I realized he could never be mine. Somebody had already owned him and that somebody was that lovely woman. It was vague but it felt like real.

6^th Dream (July 13, 2011). I and my officemates were in our office mess hall when all of a sudden (again), somebody wailed like a child. It was him! Had he not cried so loud, I wouldn’t know he was there! I was really suppressing a laugh because I found the expression on his face a bit comical. Haha! The twist of the story was when, out of nowhere, his mother and his little girl appeared. He then hugged the girl saying he would definitely miss her. That was it, then I woke up.

Six dreams! Three times in a row, a 1-day interval and then another 3 consecutive nights, in particular.  I could have disregarded the why’s that have been bombarding my mind but I simply couldn’t. Curiosity keeps knocking on the door. So I said to myself, “Maybe, opening the door for interpretation is not a bad idea. Why not give it a try?” So here’s my interpretations.

Perhaps the first dream is just a reflection of my desire to chat with him before his leaving from the country and even at present. But because of some factors affecting our platonic relationship, I am restraining myself from getting in touch with him. The desire did come into realization, not in reality, but in my night-dream.

BUT just to give you an afterthought, here’s the trivia for the first dream. It did happen in reality on that very day (July 7, 2011). Only that, it was not me he was chatting with, an officemate. My officemate told me they did. She did not tell me the whole story but part of it was asking him about the schedule of his flight which he answered with “Thursday.” Was it pure coincidence? Or was it coming into real life?

The second dream is perhaps my wish to turn the events my way. Maybe, I want him to stay so I get to see him everyday. But this can also be interpreted via another perspective. Perhaps, too, there was a bit of apprehension on his part (before he went abroad). He was torn between his family and dreams. Maybe something was pulling him to stay but mostly, it was pushing him to pursue his dreams for his family.

The third dream can also be interpreted in two sides, mine and his. Perhaps, the dream is about missing him and I admit I DO. I miss his presence in the office and maybe he, too, does miss, NOT ME of course, but the entire gang in the office.

Thinking of it now, I cannot really remember the sequence of events of the fourth dream. I can only remember the faces. It was him and my first love. Could it be because the intensity of what I have felt for him is the same as what I felt for my past love? Maybe, so.

The fifth dream is sort of the slapping truth. There is a BACK-OFF message telling me to stop this madness. It’s simple. He can never love me back because his heart already belongs to someone. On the other hand, let me see the scene in a different angle. Perhaps, too, the message relayed is to let me realize there are so much complications entailed if we happened to take risk and take that “game” (Part I: Pouring Out )seriously.

The last dream is plain and simple. He misses his family but most especially his little girl. The twist of the story? July 13, 2011 happened to be the day of his flight.

Are these dreams connected to reality?

Are these dreams, in a way, a medium of sending me some messages like message of realization and even of what and how he felt during those times before he left?

Or these are all just my subconscious thoughts because he has affected me  so deeply?

Solving the puzzles of dreams is too complicated. There are many opinions, explanations, theories, studies attached to that subject. Hence, my interpretations are moot.

But be it supported with spiritual, scientific or psychological findings, one thing is certain.

No one can ever decipher the code of DREAMS… except God.

Am I right?

Till next boring session guys! My post is quite long. Haha! Till then. I’ll bore you with my thoughts next reading session! Thanks for droppin’ by.

*Unedited post…

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011

TO BE EDITED TONIGHT! I AM IN A HURRY!

07.05.11. The morning chill was starting to penetrate into my tiny body, slowly awakening me from a confusing sequence of dreams.  I pulled my blanket  up for insulation and curled up snugly like a fetus in a womb. I was half-asleep, half-awake but the fact that it was Tuesday, getting out of bed was obligatory. Whether I liked it or not, I had to.

Unfortunately, procrastination has already been part of my boring life, clinging unto me like a leech!

So instead of making my way down and started preparing for work, I searched for my mobile phone to check the time, silently hoping it was still too early for the rush. It was more or less 15 minutes past 6 in the morning, it said. I then glanced at my bedside digital clock for verification. It showed a minute delayed than my phone’s. Thinking I still had time to spare to indulge myself into another snooze, I thought to myself, “Perhaps, stealing a few minutes is not that bad enough.” So, I just ignored the obvious message transmitted by the clocks and dozed off for a couple of minutes.

Zzzzzzzz…. Hmp! I don’t snore!

Minutes later, I forced my heavily shut eyes to open only to find out it was almost 7 in the morning! The sun was already up at its 7am position but since my room was covered with a checkered drape mostly of dark to a few light brown hues in contrast to the refreshing I-don’t-know-what-that-color-is-painted wall, my eyes did not squint a single bit. Mr. Sun was not given the chance to infiltrate into that thick fiber of the fabric.

Nonetheless, I let out a grunt. As tempting as it was, I dragged myself out of bed, cleaned up my mess and grabbed a towel and a pair of undies before heading downstairs for a quick pour (We don’t have a shower! We’re poor, you know.). So, splaaaaassssssshhhhh! Then I was done.

I knew I would be late for the nth time today. So I decided to rush outside for a short walk going to the office after donning my daily informal wear, jeans and Tee, but wearing my dingy worn-out yet comfy faded yellow Slazenger canvas with pink shoelace. I wore a pair of girly yet sophisticated flats yesterday. So I opted for a rugged pair today.

Uhm, let me wander off the main topic first. I love shoes! And I love wearing them one each day! I prefer old shoes though because I can’t afford new ones. I also love chic sandals!

Okay, so there, enough of those small details…

I went to the office with an empty stomach. I did it on purpose. One, the office is just a walking distance so it would not be a hassle going back for breakfast. Two, I did not want to hear that recorded voice of a woman saying “Thank you!” even if I timed-in, using my index print, minutes after 8:00! She should have been telling me, “You’re late again and again!” She’s not being honest to herself! Hahah!

With that being confessed, I know what’s playing on your mind right now. Yeah! I knew it was simple cheating but I promise it’s not gonna happen again. Period.I won’t be giving you any further explanation regarding that matter. My lips are tightly sealed! Zipppeeeeeddddd!!!!!Don’t mind fretting over it!

Anyway, my story does not end here, of course! My mouth can never recognize a “shut up” signboard in some other matters when I’m blogging. So I’m gonna continue blabbering here and if you happen to read this blog, please do bear with me. I can be a boring storyteller, exhausting you with so much dangling words. Well, that’s just simply my style of writing. Okay, so much for the meanders again…  

I was glad I was not late today. I arrived at the log-station at 7:52AM. I then retraced my way back, dropping by the office for a matter of seconds, and then went out heading home to eat an early meal. With only less to masticate because I scooped only a cup of rice, I was done eating a couple of minutes after.

For your information, I do not eat much during breakfast. I am not much an early eater. Blame it to my hyperacidity! I have always had this morning churn inside my stomach whenever I smell oily and sometimes sour foods during early hours of the day and if things get worse, vomiting is the next scene!

I do love mornings but my stomach doesn’t. This may be the simplest reason why I am skinny, not to mention I have this incredible rapid metabolism! Sometimes, I do wonder how my tummy can be so overworking in a lot of times. I eat as many as healthy people can. I usually eat a lot during lunches and dinners but I can’t gain fats! Hmp! If I were to give an award to my digestive system, I would be handing that award over to my stomach and small intestines the soonest possible time for being the most hyperactive duo when it comes to liquefying and further digestion of foods!

Okay, so much for the rant of not gaining even just a few fats…

I went back to the office afterwards doing NOTHING. Uhmm… I did read an Agricultural Engineering Board Review material but that was just it for the entire day. Uhmm…I did work on some printouts but I stopped and went back reading, absentmindedly burying my face into that first topic I chose, the Engineering Shop subject. I answered its by-level exercises and then checked my answers via Answer Key. I found out I made an averagely impressive performance on the Easy Level by scoring 14/20, but dramatically dropped to 7/20 on its Moderate Level and managed to get a break-even score on the Difficult Level, 5/10. Hmmff! You couldn’t blame me! The book required me to answer some questions with answers nowhere to be found in those articles, or what do you call that! I was only depending on those articles because, at that moment, I had no other sources besides that material.

Furthermore, I am still on the stage of scraping the layers of rust off my head thickened for 4 years of staying idle!I did not take up the AE Board Exam right after I graduated last 2007 from a particular university and I still haven’t since then. I did not even exert an effort to stress my brain out even by just undergoing myself through a self-review.

Therefore, my mind is kinda adjusting to those bolts, nuts, screw, rivets, softwood, hardwood, power tools, power machines, types of saw, power shears, nails, computation for board foot and other terminologies! Not to mention, Engineering Shop is only a minor subject and there’s still a lot more to busy my deteriorating brain in the coming days! Ugh! Just reading a few pages of it, even without seriously reading it, totally drained my cerebrum!

Nevertheless, it was better that way than doing totally nothing. It has been several weeks since I felt I did sweat my ass off doing a real job. I am not enjoying the ambiance of our office now. Nepotism hangs in the air and its venom is starting to poison me. It is slowly eating me.I have been trying to disregard this bad vibe but I can’t most of the time. It’s got me secluding myself from my co-workers, as if I have my own world and it does not revolve around them. Anyway, I won’t be pouring out the entire story of that dilemma today. Be posting it one of these days.

Going back to my daily routine, I ended my working day flipping through the pages of that reviewer, a few chats with officemates and then jotting down my memories of the past day.

At home, I went upstairs and waited for dinner by re-reading The Godfather. Unfortunately, I dozed off but was still able to eat dinner with my family. Sleep was then elusive for a couple of hours. So I stayed at the living room watching etc shows. One thing that got me interested was the Bachelor Pad, quite interesting!

Yeah, they are all handsome men and beautiful women but it is their culture that  had got me hooked. They are quite open-minded. I want to elaborate this topic further but I’m afraid this post is too long for a post , my head is starting to ache and my eyes are beginning to

d

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Till next time readers and bloggers! 

*Unedited post..

Copyright © Yramjin and The Diary of Yramjin, 2010-2011