tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24290967142565151972024-03-21T10:49:05.683-07:00OF THIS, AND THAT.Thoughts, litanies, and humdrums written on digital paperLyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.comBlogger20125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-86392081445675239582010-04-05T13:27:00.000-07:002010-04-06T15:57:13.802-07:00Of Friendships, and Endings<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RPjVAAqLLnp8x01iRV18Jsa_knHNsQvdITgxvzbc-NKkH_w00qXpRihR0XWhZJhdsx2Ag7mjJPEVouDRlsjEvA9oZC6XebovEaexX_GqbQ2hjB8tcoeiPOcT88j7fYLyq68cSHk3QK57/s1600/EndFriendship.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 91px; height: 91px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RPjVAAqLLnp8x01iRV18Jsa_knHNsQvdITgxvzbc-NKkH_w00qXpRihR0XWhZJhdsx2Ag7mjJPEVouDRlsjEvA9oZC6XebovEaexX_GqbQ2hjB8tcoeiPOcT88j7fYLyq68cSHk3QK57/s400/EndFriendship.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456761452075344994" /></a><br /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#333333;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000000;"><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of the hardest things that you will ever have to do in life is tell a friend that the friendship is no longer wanted. It is never easy to tell someone that you have shared so many events with, and have developed a bond with, that it is over. It doesn't matter if it was a short friendship, or a best friend, or how much you actually care about the person in question. Ending a friendship is never easy, and it takes a lot of heart to actually go through with it. It isn't easy, but here are a few tips as to how you can go about ending it.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The first thing to think about is if you have actually exhausted every option. Have you tried talking to your friend about the issues that you have? Have you given your friend a chance to change whatever it is that is making you end the friendship? Sometimes you just have to tell someone what is bothering you, and they will get the hint, and change their ways for the better. Most friends don't want to be a burden, and will gladly work with you to make the friendship more beneficial.</span></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;font-size:medium;">If you have tried talking the issues out, and nothing has changed, you probably need to cut that person off. There are a couple ways you can go about this, and you could either tell the friend it is over, or just let that person fade away. Chances are if you are seriously thinking about ending the friendship, you are probably not seeing this person as much anyway. Give it a week or so, and if your friend doesn't say anything, you might be able to fight the battle without firing a single shot.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">However, if there is still contact between the two of you, you should tell them straight up that you are done with the friendship. Just ask your former friend to not text you, call you, or ask to hang out anymore. You are no longer friends, and tell that person why you don't want to hang out or be friends anymore. If your friend doesn't get it, just remind them of all the things that you needed changed, and weren't. Stick to your plan to end the friendship unless things change.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span> <span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">If you friend knows you are serious, and is willing to change, then go ahead and try to work things out if it seems like it would work. Otherwise just stick to your guns, and don't talk to your friend anymore. Try to keep things in perspective though, and don't end a friendship over a small fight, as friends will have those from time to time. If you feel like you are not getting anything out of the friendship, and you need to move on, move on.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /><br /></span> <span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Ending a friendship is never an easy thing to do. Not only do you not want to hurt anyone's feelings, you don't ever want something like that to happen to you. Empathy is a good thing in this case, but you have to look out for yourself first. Stay strong, and stick to your plan if you are going to end a friendship, and don't let your friend guilt you into coming back.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Some things are very hard to define, quantify or put a value to and friendship would definitely fall into this category. It is something special which you can't just acquire and then dispose of. Friendship comes in different sizes, shapes and forms, and at different times. You never know when it might happen and you can't just order it.</span></o:p></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.0pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:115%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;color:#333333;"><br /></span></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.0pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:115%"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 115%; font-family:'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p></span><p></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.0pt;margin-left: 0in;line-height:115%"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p></span><p></p></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-6541079885649021422010-02-16T15:24:00.000-08:002010-02-20T03:39:00.455-08:00Of Hearts and Tigers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgww3ixMEhBSjm7NBF69dly2jmSqDZHro5j7ZN3orZHhKf3vuADgkqBfU7h5pKUpc9Uh_2ZtGwbeOiPZT2HrMoHqxORtCa-MtooZcQD3ggd3KnnootKSgPlE9_XipJ0JWNns3QGkKuZqs6/s1600-h/MetalTiger.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 92px; height: 118px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgww3ixMEhBSjm7NBF69dly2jmSqDZHro5j7ZN3orZHhKf3vuADgkqBfU7h5pKUpc9Uh_2ZtGwbeOiPZT2HrMoHqxORtCa-MtooZcQD3ggd3KnnootKSgPlE9_XipJ0JWNns3QGkKuZqs6/s400/MetalTiger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438996374981023058" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;">It has been ages now since I put into a written account some things that came to pass in the recent months. A lot of things did happen... and a lot too did not. 2009 ended without me putting any written-account about it. I thought of writing a year-end-blog of sort about it but time did not permit me.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;">Anyhow, I have got a little time now and here, I am chronicling my thoughts on love and tigers.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;">Last Friday was Valentines Day (or Single's Awareness Day to some, me included), and Chinese New year at the same time. I just spent the day with one of my best friends, Jopat. We were supposed to have a single's dinner, but Ian, another best friend of ours went to Baguio to spend the weekend there. Our other friends were not available as well, so we decided to change plans. We instead went to a friend's mom's birthday bash in Quezon City. That was how I spent the twin holidays of February 14, 2010. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#FF6666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So, Chinese New Year and valentines, huh!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 21px; "><p style="margin-top: 10px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;">They say The Metal Tiger is a violent year, with most weapons made of metal, and many Fung Shui experts say that a double holiday like that of last Sunday is actually not so good. But despite this, I think it’s rather poetic that the day of love should fall on the start of a new year. It’s almost as if the singles are reminded that they can always make a new start, especially when it comes to love. And for those who are happily in love, it’s a reminder to be thankful that another year has been given, for them to spend happily together.</span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 10px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; padding-top: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; text-align: justify; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;">As for me, I’m just grateful that love is in my life in spades – from family, friends, and my baby whale. Not that I don’t get negative energy from haters, because I do too, but having the good stuff, somehow insulates you from the bad. So welcome, metal tiger! We’ll find a way of co-existing with each other with a minimum of violence, and be nice, okay?</span></span></span></p></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FF6666;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-36948528039862750842009-09-22T01:47:00.000-07:002009-09-23T18:07:51.885-07:00Of Glasses Broken<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEihDxFHM-406-MO14oOAr0EHrrAHRqHprZFon1rjj-nLaJ9PebyPR-MtMqZbJFYnjzhqA1b8opDKWRZb2ltnPMJ5JhB1o7c-qHA4jZ2Q0046PRy2Od__d8Ff6jXxA18GcFSsmBtpY10sJ/s1600-h/broken-glass.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEihDxFHM-406-MO14oOAr0EHrrAHRqHprZFon1rjj-nLaJ9PebyPR-MtMqZbJFYnjzhqA1b8opDKWRZb2ltnPMJ5JhB1o7c-qHA4jZ2Q0046PRy2Od__d8Ff6jXxA18GcFSsmBtpY10sJ/s400/broken-glass.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384211475381313522" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span></span></b></i></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 18px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> got to taste the feel of real feelings in a simulation of life last week, when I attended ALC along with 48 other brave souls. One of the strongest key takeaways I got from the retreat was my view of the commitments I make in life.</span></span></span></span></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Reading from an old magazine, I came across upon a quote that pretty much preaches about agreements that we make – to ourselves and others. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I quote:</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">"Sir, I do not share your faith. But if I did - if I believed what you say you believed - then although England were covered with broken glass from coast to coast, I would crawl the length and breadth of it on hand and knee and think the pain worthwhile, just to save a single soul from this eternal hell of which you speak."</span></span></span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></span></span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><br /></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"> </span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">~Charles Peace</span></span></span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 16px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Charles Peace was a career criminal in England in the 1800s. He committed numerous burglaries and was ultimately convicted and hanged for murdering a man. Charles made the statement above to a reverend that visited him prior to his execution. It was the reverend’s job to give Peace the opportunity to confess his crimes and save his soul prior to his execution.</span></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">It came so strongly to me, as weeks ago, I made a commitment to a dearest friend which I broke rather deliberately. My intentions of living up to it proved to be unworthy, simply basing from the results I produced. Based on results as the benchmark to conclude, intentions were absent to begin with. This is so, because in the realm of possibilities, I could have driven myself steadfast to the agreement I made.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:10.2pt;text-align:justify;line-height: 12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">It takes incredible commitment to accomplish big things in life. Whatever your cause, you have to fully commit yourself to it and believe enough in it to risk everything to make it a reality. We often go about our mission in life on autopilot. We approach even vitally important matters with half-heartedness especially when it takes years to see it through to completion. In what do you believe? How committed are you to your cause? Will your present level of commitment be enough?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:10.2pt;text-align:justify;line-height: 12.25pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Apparently, the reverend provided this type of service for the prison regularly. It might have become somewhat routine to him. Apparently, this was obvious to Charles Peace. The reverend’s passion and commitment to his faith obviously did not shine through to Charles. He was not convincing.</span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:10.2pt;text-align:justify;line-height: 12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">We cannot persuade others and get them behind us in our cause, no matter what it is, if we lack passion and commitment! We must demonstrate our commitment to everyone around us. They have to see it in our actions and hear it in our voice. It isn’t so much the words you say as it is the way you say it. You don’t have to be an eloquent speaker to persuade people, but you do have to be able to convey your passion to them. They have to feel it. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:10.2pt;text-align:justify;line-height: 12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Charles Peace did not feel the reverend’s passion and therefore he was not convinced. Maybe this is why others aren’t jumping on the bandwagon of your cause. Maybe they don’t feel your passion. Have you lost the fever?</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.2pt;margin-left: 0in;text-align:justify;line-height:12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Obstacles will always arise to block us from attaining our goals. However, if we are truly committed, then we will not be deterred. Notice that Charles says if he believed, he would crawl the length and breadth of England across broken glass to convince others. In other words, he wouldn’t hold anything back. The pain would be worth it. He would go the distance and do whatever it took to meet the demands of his cause.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.2pt;margin-left: 0in;text-align:justify;line-height:12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Are you giving it your all? A good cause will demand sacrifice. There will always be a struggle to accomplish anything worthwhile. Pain is a part of the game. What are you willing to give?</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">I imagine the reverend reflected heavily on Charles Peace’s statement to him. In fact, I think it probably haunted him. Was he truly committed and passionate about his faith? This was a question he had to wrestle with. The reverend had dedicated his life to his cause, but had the flame burned out?</span></span></span></span></span></p><p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.2pt;margin-left: 0in;text-align:justify;line-height:12.25pt"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 19px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">It often takes something like the reverend's encounter with Charles Peace to rock us out of our sleepwalk. Where are you at in the level of commitment to your cause?</span></span></span></p> <p style="margin-top:0in;margin-right:0in;margin-bottom:10.2pt;margin-left: 0in;text-align:justify;line-height:12.25pt"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CCCCCC;">Would you crawl across broken glass?</span></span></span></span><span style=" ;color:black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:10.2pt;text-align:justify;line-height: 12.25pt"><span style=" ;color:black;"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><span style="line-height: 115%; "><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></o:p></span></p></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-64802881842702265562009-06-05T03:23:00.000-07:002009-06-06T05:51:59.390-07:00Of Mismatches and Misplacements<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One of the random pictures I took on our way to Sonya's Garden in Tagaytay for Ate Leni's birthday: </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XHJwC-rlVAke7Moe4BjoNykpSjSWCikNJ7dhSAwcWDsGp1fmb3ynZClDRerNleQgeVxHCMF8JrGWgZHVOilVb15JXpzVfAEGnAUNhyaX_-UXXOWd3ZrdNrfS36eNZ6E8Hu6DH3tVoMIP/s1600-h/IMG_4031.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344196092929822690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-XHJwC-rlVAke7Moe4BjoNykpSjSWCikNJ7dhSAwcWDsGp1fmb3ynZClDRerNleQgeVxHCMF8JrGWgZHVOilVb15JXpzVfAEGnAUNhyaX_-UXXOWd3ZrdNrfS36eNZ6E8Hu6DH3tVoMIP/s400/IMG_4031.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Pasta and Bar are heartbroken. Their partners cheated on them.<br /><br />I wonder why would I need a Dolby Digital surround sound while eating pizza?<br />Also, what is the (.) dot doing there, by the way?<br /></span></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-66962315616841300162009-05-31T19:09:00.000-07:002009-05-31T19:47:42.702-07:00Of Tomorrows, and Another-Days<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_zOiX6gyyaLbW9LHxX89toKzFA14sbpxiYrNAX4n7srrQ9hi5CMUXxQuZHy2mLY-Mxwj23NlMqtuZLN22_IjAlLVa2jKF0OJtgXEvChfl8vL_o1wW52v5ex6qUcMFvFb7Fp1v06VOFw9/s1600-h/Battle.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342184835927747730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih_zOiX6gyyaLbW9LHxX89toKzFA14sbpxiYrNAX4n7srrQ9hi5CMUXxQuZHy2mLY-Mxwj23NlMqtuZLN22_IjAlLVa2jKF0OJtgXEvChfl8vL_o1wW52v5ex6qUcMFvFb7Fp1v06VOFw9/s400/Battle.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">They say we are only given challenges that we can handle. They say that the “unmoved mover” and the universe have their own way of awarding us things that we could bite and chew which decide our fate. But may I ask by which standards do these awards are being benchmarked against? By asking, do I necessarily question my faith? And by asking, do I thwart myself out of driving a point? </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fate and faith are separated by a thin line. Philosophers would argue that we decide our fate as we were given the liberty to live our lives the way we see it fit. Given that liberty we are also making ourselves accountable for our actions so that later on we can be judged based on these actions carried out with will and volition. But faith teaches us to accept that there is a greater design - a design that puts us in a destined place in the larger scheme of beings. And that the mere existence of this design teaches us to believe that things that are meant to be will be meant to be; that things that are not meant to be will never be meant to be. That is a whole new story versus the latter, if you ask me. Around us are battles that we need to fight - battles that will very well define our destiny. Whether they’re destined to be our fight and whether we’re destined to win or lose is something that we could only make a hypothesis of. But here’s a two cents worth on that matter - I remember one person saying 'we only fight battles that we could win'. I agree. These are battles that are material to how we become a substance more than a mere existence. While some will say that failure teaches certain values of maturity, I have my reservations against failing just to learn. A lost cause provides enough precaution before it blows out of proportion. A dead end usually winds up before it cuts you short. So, is it worth to live and fight another day? I say take the hint, cruise along and die another day. I asked 'by which standards are challenges benchmarked against' as I would like to understand why do we need to take the hit on such inexplicable levels. Fate. Destiny. There you go again. But seriously, I am intrigued and fascinated why such tests must come in like torrential rains pouring as hard as it could, flooding ones’ shabby condition, exacerbating what seems to be an already deplorable state? In an attempt to put reason behind the interplay of cause, causalities and the whole nine yards, we either end up more confused or making lame excuses for the very things that have dampen our spirits. Now, where do we lean on moving forward? Do I daresay I make my own fate as I decide which battles I can only fight, or has the great design all figured that out, that a destination has been written and predestination decided nevertheless?<br /><br />Today I resign from all of these. Tomorrow is another day. Or maybe I’ll do it tomorrow for the morrow after tomorrow, is yet another day.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-81636950963261726022009-04-12T06:58:00.000-07:002009-04-12T21:48:24.961-07:00Of Fears and Hopes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWm_k03Tx5F0-ogiUMOep1b6z9F6JAFY2lX068Tfwq5TzEAJLPBsY4_PyTHZTJqft5Gf-YnxPA_r20dzfvzYgYqjf0oROPOWgAfvi4_LDdv1UU3i7akPiCuAd04KO4MNUvSytYRJ7Z3S5/s1600-h/Easter.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323806510599057186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 135px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 90px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeWm_k03Tx5F0-ogiUMOep1b6z9F6JAFY2lX068Tfwq5TzEAJLPBsY4_PyTHZTJqft5Gf-YnxPA_r20dzfvzYgYqjf0oROPOWgAfvi4_LDdv1UU3i7akPiCuAd04KO4MNUvSytYRJ7Z3S5/s320/Easter.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;">I</span>t’s Easter Sunday, and a quote from a friend’s facebook handle caught my awareness:<br /><em><br />The resurrection gives my life meaning and direction and the opportunity to start over no matter what my circumstances.<br />- Robert Flatt</em><br /><br />One of the spiritual messages that Easter brings is the gift of resurrection, which the scriptures say was brought about by the atonement of Jesus Christ. He made resurrection available to all mankind and it is a reward free for all. I am not a religious devout or any sort of a pious person but this message of Easter thrills me, as for me, it is also a message of hope – hope for better things.<br /><br />This Lenten message holds true, and was demonstrated through a recent event in one of my dearest friend’s life. In my previous post, I referred to closures as something not totally necessary in ones moving on. I still hold steadfast to that premise, but I am but happy that my friend was brave enough to seek out that yearned-for closure from his most recent relationship. To drive quickly to my drift, he went on, threw off the bowlines, and sailed on in search of that closure.<br /><br />He did not find closure. What he found was something even better. He found hope. What he found was a person in need, a person who is broken and needs fixing. My friend stood tall and extended his hand for help, and offered hope. Whether they officially end up being lovers or getting back together was brushed off the picture. What is important now is my friend is going to be there for that person, and be an instrument in God’s hand to make him whole again. They both have started from somewhere now, and hope is shining bright.<br /><br />In the course of these events, my friend defied FEAR - fear of rejection. Fear of being hurt. Fear of what the other party will say. Fear of putting oneself out there ‘on the line’. Fear of the unknown — what COULD happen! But it was not enough to hinder him to the point of inaction. The fact remained, that if you do not put yourself ‘out there’ sometimes, you won’t get anywhere. No risk, no reward.<br /><br />Many times we allow an obstacle to get in the way of reconciling. It’s just too easy to say “oh well, I tried.” But on the flipside there are actual solutions. That’s right, every one of them. Despite what the gurus would have you believe, there are no solutions that work 100% of the time, simply because we all possess free will to do as we please. My friend knew what he wanted and bravely went on with it. Having that said, he defied the inability to overcome obstacles.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He has also defied pride. In my friend’s case, there were things said and done in the course of their relationship - things that caused so much pain in him. He could have clung to his pride and recover and cope from those things said and done. It is a basic human desire to be right. Nevertheless, he did not see it that way. He did let pride prevent him from moving to the right direction. He was able to demonstrate humility, and it served him best. Humbling and opening himself up to that special someone made him overlook past mistakes and forgive. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have heard said that our hopes should always be greater than our fears. Yet again, I ha</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ve seen it play out in action from this demonstration. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I really like how Robert Flatt put it – start over, no matter what the circumstances may be.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-57686261188640919942009-03-24T08:15:00.000-07:002009-04-10T10:21:19.106-07:00Of Doors Left Ajar<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViSbyVjlt3R_nYmse5ltlScUomW8AAui_yY33xldrFZUq_8ZO2ZTDHkzoDE6I_d-J306I9qdcFpezbAQvsufHhNm7NHjKb68ldbUiZJaaH97rOQd4LSytEZPeyfGEoBX3IV-xA6vjSTnC/s1600-h/door.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5323113854709128930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhViSbyVjlt3R_nYmse5ltlScUomW8AAui_yY33xldrFZUq_8ZO2ZTDHkzoDE6I_d-J306I9qdcFpezbAQvsufHhNm7NHjKb68ldbUiZJaaH97rOQd4LSytEZPeyfGEoBX3IV-xA6vjSTnC/s320/door.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCCdm7lGj1-0BHZ0uOdwf4j-k78WWV-Ztl7ranycMxSgWlP6jyOOIQ7lkV7HwMS3inrzYH60MVVV5XaYuIDqc6RrkhNR0B-fRTeSDvlbNB8rOlzmGnF4aia2BCIyXKDcr7efpFydebmzhx/s1600-h/door.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVo8mAAoBgMgKhXAgwNy5DG0gn00yl3VdILANkc54w5qzzhKOS8X16zG4Vpnxkv4Uzh6lggwLZPFef0oHtw8d2WeAuSX1-hYAeSiQDgueJtWW3qk8gFuSVtooNWPjTI-Kp9kLgPbDgWxu4/s1600-h/door.jpg"></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#009900;">I</span>t is truth that when we say that the relationship is over often it truly is not. We know of persons who split up years ago, and yet one of the partners (or even both) cannot seem to let go emotionally. What makes parting difficult is not physical absence – rather, it is the letting-go-emotionally. The memories, the good times past - all these and many more factors make it very hard for some people to let go of a relationship. This is why there follows a period of mourning after the parting which for some did not end with a period. It is also true that many couples go on in a relationship after it is over. The factors mentioned above keep them from walking away from potential happiness.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Closure is a HUGE issue. We all want something to end completely. We all want answers, to understand. We often hang around in a relationship, doing damage to ourselves, because we are looking for that moment when-it-all-gets-clear; when we finally say what we mean and what we feel and finally feel heard by him/her. When we feel a chapter has closed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Only, it hardly ever happens that way.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We can end up spending so much of our lives waiting for, looking for, praying for, listening for, asking for, demanding, envisioning, thinking about, and writing about…Closure, which never happens.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then here’s the question to ask - Is Closure necessary? Is it really all that is important?<br />I say NO. We most often, will never get closure, and perhaps that’s a very good thing. Perhaps that’s the way we learn to be softer, more fluid and flexible - To roll with the punches, and to be surprised. Perhaps this is where we finally learn to give up control.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So - there we are. Don’t NEED to close anything. Leave all doors be, let air move through, around, against, up and down all the open and half-closed and slightly ajar and slammed shut doors of our lives, until the doors finally disappear on their own, from misuse. Let the cobwebs gather around the old patterns, let the old pain drift away, let things crumble as they will.<br /></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">No closure - just movement. Moving forward, onward to Happy-Ever-After.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I wrote of this account for a friend who deems he needs closure from a recent relationship. This is not to go against what he thinks is best for him, but maybe an option or a thought he might want to ponder.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Point being? Closure is not a prerequisite of moving on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">As a friend, I will bless the day when this friend of mine finds happiness in love, whether behind closed doors, doors left ajar, or doors left open.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-88991890852441135822009-01-31T21:31:00.000-08:002009-03-22T00:49:41.606-07:00Of Finding and Mending Me<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSD5npsp8kLWE8qD1OEotso7WWMT6btSGonMl8x6A3YTSmaCt_OODEiegtq9XGnq7Dj2VTnwxaK2wUy1W1nwDGB0wUOXZeEqsK206On3L8A_vwW3xZ4K3gphmOCO25aGqaJURdKQ7avCUN/s1600-h/private_665b536643789c81071f6a2f0c07c3e8f7090bf4ed19209d1ed5cef070706378l.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297862968337540690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSD5npsp8kLWE8qD1OEotso7WWMT6btSGonMl8x6A3YTSmaCt_OODEiegtq9XGnq7Dj2VTnwxaK2wUy1W1nwDGB0wUOXZeEqsK206On3L8A_vwW3xZ4K3gphmOCO25aGqaJURdKQ7avCUN/s320/private_665b536643789c81071f6a2f0c07c3e8f7090bf4ed19209d1ed5cef070706378l.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Rm. 618, WCC - my halfway house (January 19 - March 20, 2007)</span><br /></div></span><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I am not sure where I am generating the courage now to actually write an account of a two year old distant past. Have I mustered the audacity and valor in a shady atmosphere that has already spanned two years? </span></div><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">January 19, 2009 marks the second anniversary of a tragedy that changed my life forever. Two years had drawn close since that day and maybe, just maybe, it is now time to let the pain go. I don’t even know if two years is too soon but I will try to fade the dim memories away.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Year 2008 was more of a healing year for me. It was a treacherous journey of finding, lifting, and mending myself. By a supreme power, I was sent angels and sentinels so to make the bumpy road still passable. He laid stepping stones across the raging river. My angels and my stones – these are the people who helped me pull through a life that has never been too kind.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Below is a list of people who cheered and are cheering me on, and some notes on why I deem them imperative to my repair.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1. My mother, Elizabeth. She has tremendously showed charity to me during the days I was in the hospital and the whole stretch of my recuperation and more so beyond. We might not have an A1 excellent mother-son relationship, but thank her for all that she has sacrificed for me. I regret it that I cannot be the son that she wishes me to be. I know I am difficult to love, but I will be forever grateful because you still do.<br />2. My dad, Rolando. I have always regarded him as my hero. I am thankful for all that he has sacrificed to make sure he delivered me good life. I feel sorry that I am not able to become the son he wishes me to be.<br />3. My sister, Den. My lifetime is not enough for me to let her know how grateful I am for all the things she has shared to me. This person stood up strong for me plenty a times. It is comforting to know that she is just there within my reach.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4. Dave, my siter's fiance. I am thankful for this man of faith for inspiring and encouraging me in so many ways.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />5. The Guanzons. The whole pack. I forgot something was painful every time they were in the hospital to see me. Laughter-is-the best medicine holds true.<br />6. Sirach and Juna. For the times they brought the kids to the hospital. The dimension of the hospital room changes every time Gel and Johan were there.<br />7. Nini and Felvs. This couple has spent all their days off from work for the whole two months to see me in the hospital. They even spent Valentines ’07 in my hospital room. Thank you, because those visits meant a lot to me. Wedding plans were practically sketched in my hospital room (laughs). I still regret it until now that I was not able to host your wedding program. Glad to have done the toast, though.<br />8. My Ninang Wealthy. She is my number one fan. I am grateful to this wonderful person for being my strength all through out.<br />9. My Ninang Wealthy’s family, Kuya Mario, Jam, Martie, and JP. Especially JP – loved the prayers. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">10. My EFY Family. Ate Len, Ate Ron, Ria, and Zen - These people have been one of my main sources of fun and strenth. I tahnk them for everything, including the Sodoku. Kuya Deo - who was far across my reach then, texting all the way from Japan, making me laugh.<br />11. Anna Mae. It was God’s blessing that she was already my boss during that time. I am forever grateful for her tremendous support and love. Things were crazy in the office back then, but she was never too tired to assist me with everything I needed for the filing of my leaves and benefit claims. She also made sure I had a job to go back to. Mae has turned my worries to lemon drops.<br />12. UP chums – July, Yna, Anne, AJ. My old friends who came to see me right away the moment they knew of what happened.<br />13. People from the Quality who paid me visits – Pau, Mitch, Glory, Reb, Phing, Chloe, Darlene, Marlon, Boibits, and Rose. They deemed me worthy of their time. I knew how busy in the office during those times was, but these friends of mine managed to see how I was.<br />14. People from Training who paid me visits – Jan, Allan, Bee (and Mark), Monty, Duane (and Majo), and Ron.<br />15. People from the office who were not able to see me, but texted forever, wanting to know how the going was – Jiro and Reggie.<br />16. My Chase trainees, waves 11 – 21. Coming back to the office from my hiatus was such a blast because of them, my boys!<br />17. My PayPal Trainees, Waves 36 – 42. I have won lots of new friends from this pack.<br />18. Jayson. He is one of the best friends I made in the recent years. I began my close correlation with him when I reported back to work, practically still sick. Working with him as my boss was like a therapy. He will always be significant in my getting-better. Agyaman. When I was in a bumpy situation latter part of last year, he offered me a half-way house.<br />19. Yuri. For being the kind of friend he is to me.<br />20. Ryan. For everything that went well… and for those that did not, I am thankful to this man. You are still one of my best buds. Tita Dalen, Lola (who is now looking down on me from where she is), and Manang – they are family to me, and it will remain that way.<br /><br />I have been carrying a baggage which is too big for me to carry alone. I am glad there are people who have been putting on my yoke from time to time to make sure I make it.<br /></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Maybe two years is too soon for the picture to become a faded memory… But now, I am seeing streaks of mist. Good sign? Maybe, just maybe…<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-37194129336785008862009-01-31T13:46:00.000-08:002009-02-08T18:08:24.319-08:00Of Mismatches Made in Heaven & Wishes Made Upon Someone Else's Star - Chronicles of Unrequited Love (Part 4)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCky54IEcSz5OIBNrtfwqMGODIKYWm10eFZLzSMJeyPchzgGFgzg_x0cbU9jCHaG6n7gpWVtDGu8xUPdCQt3PWM5Qt0g3yIEDe8U_wVYxE32xVXjdmdf4bTaK2wEhQZmy8pIRcmn9DwDD/s1600-h/letting+go.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297583930276996754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 168px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbCky54IEcSz5OIBNrtfwqMGODIKYWm10eFZLzSMJeyPchzgGFgzg_x0cbU9jCHaG6n7gpWVtDGu8xUPdCQt3PWM5Qt0g3yIEDe8U_wVYxE32xVXjdmdf4bTaK2wEhQZmy8pIRcmn9DwDD/s320/letting+go.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#003300;">I</span>n your hands is a very precious creation so fragile, so valuable that if you keep on holding it, it either stays or falls apart. But you love this creature so much that letting it go would be comparable to letting go of your life as well, so much that sometimes you wished it would always be there, so much that you tend to be selfish so as you could make it stay for as long as you want. </span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There comes a time in our lives we chance upon someone so nice and almost perfect and we just find ourselves getting so intensely attached to that person (sometimes even without realizing it). This feeling soon becomes a part of our daily lives and eventually guzzles our thoughts and actions to the extent that we lable it as one of those too-good-to-be-true- things. Then, in our desperate attempt to get closer, our efforts are still futile and we still feel sorry for ourselves.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I heard it said, “Never let your heart run your life". As much as you can, always be sensible and let your mind speak for itself. Try to listen not merely on what your feelings are evoking, but more importantly listen to reason as well. Letting go of someone doesn't necessarily mean you have to stop loving, it only means that you allow the person to find his/her own happiness without expecting him to come back or in some worse cases, love you back.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Letting go is not just letting the other person free in the real sense of it, but it is also setting yourself free from all animosities, hostility, and resentments that have been lingering long in your heart. You have to let go because the bitterness often diminishes the strength and weakens the little hope left, making our lives more miserable than ever. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>If I lost you today, it means that someone better is coming tomorrow. If I lost love that doesn't mean I failed in love, probably it was another mismatch in heaven.</em></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>…or I just might have wished on someone else’s star.</em></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em></em></div></span><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><div align="justify"><em></em></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="justify"></span></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-6220861410046527092008-11-29T00:46:00.000-08:002008-11-29T08:42:02.866-08:00Chronicles of Unrequited Love (Part 3)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zxhQ-OUL-b1miUpyA-r0uePrJuShw9ZeWoZP0YlK4Ak0lE2t4k8n41i4Zmw8HzpRrHoTE3tVxxFHfOotTiW9o3BS0mvA45L_oXLopUNw1oP6sUaAoFyk6I2U_1uNP-JDZ0jWBtJBN86-/s1600-h/swing.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274120426942900930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 98px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zxhQ-OUL-b1miUpyA-r0uePrJuShw9ZeWoZP0YlK4Ak0lE2t4k8n41i4Zmw8HzpRrHoTE3tVxxFHfOotTiW9o3BS0mvA45L_oXLopUNw1oP6sUaAoFyk6I2U_1uNP-JDZ0jWBtJBN86-/s400/swing.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ffcccc;">I</span><span style="color:#ff6666;">f people love you, be thankful that you're one of the few whom certain people chose to show their emotions to. Love does not demand to be loved back but it doesn't mean it exists to be taken for granted. If you can't return the love you are given, don't let it linger to grow alone. If you don't want it, refuse kindly. </span></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;">Love may not demand but it also deserves a heart that will better understand.<br /></div></span><br /><div align="justify"><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /></div><br /><div align="justify"></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-49212286721625617732008-11-14T18:03:00.000-08:002008-11-18T20:59:30.217-08:00Of So-Longs and Farewells<div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEici5LZGlZ_uEvNJoSg7G7Z7nbMVIEbHSkkvY_UgCI2_zzxkDtM9Ade9qvuE_GhyToWt9N-1am9IV2vIld-e-LWD6JutK9BWQdIyeIid2oF_MQnwlB4qi4Skyl41E2Qk9SpcdVdo7hgSZSj/s1600-h/farewell.jpg"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268737160159518242" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 124px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEici5LZGlZ_uEvNJoSg7G7Z7nbMVIEbHSkkvY_UgCI2_zzxkDtM9Ade9qvuE_GhyToWt9N-1am9IV2vIld-e-LWD6JutK9BWQdIyeIid2oF_MQnwlB4qi4Skyl41E2Qk9SpcdVdo7hgSZSj/s320/farewell.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#33cc00;">I</span> realize that the most <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfv-ShlLRFxWUR6g9VzLaxY2x9k0MJMp-1328xIlBKmmjpeoza_yPBDKzJQO8_uqXGH-0bKB9SmA7hJmoZFwXJDqAJSBF9e8CxxBHI2nXKkABQHdAcnJT5Y0JBLLk7OJht_UbLXU-CHEeG/s1600-h/farewell.jpg"></a>important events in my life do not end up being chronicled in here. There are a number of reasons for that. For one, some of them are just too personal to tell, while others just cannot be properly captured by words, at least not by my being a pseudo-writer. Not yet. Another reason is that the event is too emotionally significant, so near the fact that putting it to words is too painful. By the time it feels better, many of the finer details, which are often the ones that matter most, are lost to time and the fallibility of human memory.<br />Some of these still make it in here, but they end up being half-hearted, just written for the sake of being written so as to avoid losing, but not truly captured. I will do my best to ensure that this latest event does not attend this latter category.<br /><br />Last Tuesday, a major change in my career history has taken place. Chase Card Services, the account I have been supporting for the past three years bade goodbye to the company. This meant a lot to me. I pioneered the account and it was where I developed in my career. It did not actually post as a threat to my career as I was automatically absorbed by my current mother campaign. What I am sappier about is that I had to say goodbye to a group of people which I deem not just colleagues but are dear friends which (for most times) felt like family. The only consolation is that I am not really saying goodbye to any of these people because I can still keep up with them as they will just be transferred to other home accounts. But of course, it will be a lot different from what we have been used to. </span><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You know how it feels like when a time and place get to you? Reaching the end, I would not want to overdo the describing how-it-feels. I am afraid I might not pull it off just right. Chase has been our home, and we are a family. Now the home has crumbled and we are now orphans, most of us seeking new shelters. The times at Chase will surely be missed. The tough times, (and there were a lot..), and the sad ones that made strong mud and wood for the home. What I miss the most is the larger and brighter part of the pie – the laughing-out-loud moments. The times when we laughed our hearts out, almost dying due to lack of oxygen – and we liked it. I will surely miss the moments when we worked our asses out, meeting deadlines, audits and all. There are a lot to look back to. Now, everything is history.<br /></div></span><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To the people I crossed shoulders with because of Chase:<br />Alvin – my ex-protégé/partner/horse-playing-partner. I wish Chase times were longer so I can make you ache ‘til you drop.<br />Paula – One of my best friends. We made our way in our careers almost together. My confidant, my excel guru. My go-to girl!!<br /><br />The ones who went ahead before the official closing:<br />Glory – my kumare/gossip-partner/shock absorber/reports generator/QA orienteer<br />Reb – my dear friend/the evil step sister/reports generator/shock absorber/report generator/last minute guy/gal/QA orienteer. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Jiro - my crazy moments partner. Thank you for sharing with me the art of gossiping! (laughs)<br />Kath – Laughing buddy/Performance reviews-partner. Darn, I will miss the Tuesday WPRs!!<br /><br />The verifiers – the times shall surely be missed. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To the coaches and mentors who hastened my job in making sure new associates perform, you guys are awesome! </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The leaders whom I learned a lot from, I salute you!! It has been great working with you.<br /><br />I know that this parting of ways is a necessary step for each of us. Yes, this chapter of our lives holds so many amazing times that makes it difficult to leave behind. The more I think about it, the more I realize, that these times should be given the opportunity to continue someday. Company Accounts are not forever, but friendships can be.<br /><br />Life makes wonders. The same paths that say we must part ways may yet be the ones which will bring us together again.<br /><br />For all that has been, and for all that still will be….<br /><br /><strong>ISANG TAOS-PUSONG PASASALAMAT.</strong> </span></div><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </p><div align="justify"><br /></div></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-26761012243405843722008-11-09T08:49:00.000-08:002008-11-09T09:31:04.133-08:00Of Hugs and Kisses (not the chocolate kind)<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVMeIZAgTScGXj_vYV1mB5IrU6CXMoYKuT5iUFyJeErNmCBKFokTHtfhmvjQtnYncjh5qmIufbZ0kA1IuvPrHrJetMShXIQ3LGgaSINca4QF2Z3H4BAf3qKOIsYSBrPWSP4WvYqmCvWMW/s1600-h/Hugs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266708052394691938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 109px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVMeIZAgTScGXj_vYV1mB5IrU6CXMoYKuT5iUFyJeErNmCBKFokTHtfhmvjQtnYncjh5qmIufbZ0kA1IuvPrHrJetMShXIQ3LGgaSINca4QF2Z3H4BAf3qKOIsYSBrPWSP4WvYqmCvWMW/s320/Hugs.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"><strong>I</strong></span> had my most-number-of-hugs-in-a-day last Friday, December 21. It was my last day at work before Christmas break. I got to hug and be hugged by people dear to me as we exchanged our merry christmases. I came to realize that embracing is one of my most-liked gestures of affection. The hugs (most of which accompanied by kisses) made me feel warm and comforted. Maybe inside I am still crying… and embraces unconsiously are the taps and touches on my back telling me, hush now. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="font-size:85%;">- Posted on my Friendster Blog - </span><a href="http://lyndsagdy.blog.friendster.com/"><span style="font-size:85%;">http://lyndsagdy.blog.friendster.com/</span></a><span style="font-size:85%;">, some one year ago. </span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;">* * *</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today, I bumped into one of the best friends I have, Mon Ruiz - my batchmate. It has been ages now since I last saw this lad. I remember Mon being one of those I used to borrow strengths from during when the times were difficult years back. I wished to solicit strength from him again last two years ago, only, we lost contact. </span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I was walking my way to PBO yesterday when a car pulled over at my side then, lo and behold! - there was Mon. He was in a hurry but said he was thrilled to see me so he had to quickly stop. We did not talk much because ot the very little time we had, as I was also in a bit of a rush myself. We just hugged a long hug and echanged contact info. </span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I felt I wanted to cry. Maybe there's still a tinge of struggle inside me that I wanted to sob to this friend.</span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>Maybe inside I am still crying… and embraces unconsiously are the taps and touches on my back telling me, hush now.<br /></em></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-15218281630538176602008-11-05T18:36:00.000-08:002008-11-09T08:38:29.697-08:00Of Damp Days and Rainbows<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"></span></span><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"></span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#3366ff;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDi8BeTHxa1UA-Vgbx1iQVw8-5AZXdotzRSP7IqEKGwOkkS8m0_Znq8dNG2oiUMeFaJ5ffBLxxMMI7YheTphmHwDJu7cXMXg2sf-ChGXNJixEpIV7RCQB9wfY2ifEsKJN3v2fn7exjzzEG/s1600-h/rainbow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265373971130310786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDi8BeTHxa1UA-Vgbx1iQVw8-5AZXdotzRSP7IqEKGwOkkS8m0_Znq8dNG2oiUMeFaJ5ffBLxxMMI7YheTphmHwDJu7cXMXg2sf-ChGXNJixEpIV7RCQB9wfY2ifEsKJN3v2fn7exjzzEG/s320/rainbow.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#ff6600;">5</span>:30 AM today, when I went out of the office it was raining. The streets were damp and I think I smiled when I saw on my way home, two schoolgirls walking under the rain dressed in raincoats and holding their umbrellas over their heads. I wish I could do that - walking under the rain, only I would be soaked to the skin and I would love to do the walking with my Adored One - like I have one (right, Clint?). What would make it even more vivid is when there’s a huge rainbow in the sky. I actually looked up, wishing there was a rainbow. I laughed inside because I was educated early on in my childhood that first, it needed to stop raining and the sun to come out before the multihued adornment can show. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />I don’t have any idea why the thought of rainbows unexpectedly filled my head. Maybe my psyche is warning me, I need to add dimensions to my otherwise mundane life… and fill my being with bright hopes. </div></span><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have got one wish. I hope, the next time I see a rainbow, it would stay for a long while because it has been long since. I bet I will see and hear Judy Garland singing over at its end:</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><br /><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW,<br />WAY UP HIGH<br />THERE’S A LAND THAT I HEARD OF ONCE IN A LULLABY,<br />SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW,<br />SKIES ARE BLUE,<br />AND THE DREAMS THAT YOU DARE TO DREAM<br />REALLY DO COME TRUE</span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span></div><p><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></em></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='251' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwINCzRwmNmb9QVnMIUBfSLI0iEljRe67yRbBLW1xzmqLiKriy-4czNp0aQnomqyWLUuQnDTLgRwkacvXh10w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></em></span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">PS: I just need to put this bit for Clint:</span></em><br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Let no one who loves be called unhappy. Even love unreturned has its rainbow.</span></em><br /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">-James Matthew Barrie</span><span style="font-size:78%;"> </span></em><br /><br /></span><em><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">And because of this quote, let this post be: </span></em><br /><div align="left"><em><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">Chronicles of Unrequited Love Part 2. : )</span></strong></em></div><div align="left"><strong><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div align="center"><br /> </div><p align="center"></p><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"><br /><em><br /><br /><br /></div></em>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-55287039494421687712008-11-03T16:08:00.000-08:002008-11-06T06:33:56.157-08:00Chronicles of Unrequited Love (Part 1)<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEins8glzjr-eV9NzkOHIpTTZ_vFjPwkPys__dIxpm0YnX2s8D4Itqj7Ruqp5nFs7jbytt2HjcroBx9S949m6jSKiAQlSEFaHvz54IvxpgRW6-1ACp7Jng3XoKMEXXYKhaqKk8MUtPeYklm_/s1600-h/Unrequited.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264598226660999698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 168px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEins8glzjr-eV9NzkOHIpTTZ_vFjPwkPys__dIxpm0YnX2s8D4Itqj7Ruqp5nFs7jbytt2HjcroBx9S949m6jSKiAQlSEFaHvz54IvxpgRW6-1ACp7Jng3XoKMEXXYKhaqKk8MUtPeYklm_/s320/Unrequited.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><em>"<span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="font-size:180%;">A</span></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">nd</span> then, there's another kind of love: the cruelest kind - the one that almost kills its victims. It’s called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmases, the worst Birthdays, New Years Eves brought in by tears and Valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh God, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can't swallow! All the usual symptoms." </em></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">- A quote from The Holiday that kind of hits far too close to home.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></div><br /><div align="justify">For the past days, I have been regularly speaking with one of my dearest friends Clint Donray Agoncillo. This friend of mine is going through a tough time right now, which I believe, he can get way past with ease and pride if he played his cards well enough. He is in the so-common state of unrequited love. I myself have had my fair share of this story, that when it comes my way again, I am determined to face it with a whole new attitude. I love myself better now. When by accident I stepped on that slippery slope, I will… I will… hmmmm… I don’t know (laughs).</div><br /><div align="justify">As for now, let this post and the next few sequels of it, be my tribute to Clint and others who might be in the same circumstance of unreciprocated love. Some of the posts preceding this one will speak about...UNREQUITED LOVE.<br /></span></div></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-75148657657865417742008-11-02T14:52:00.000-08:002008-11-02T16:43:43.131-08:00Choo Choo Train<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkN3Sx30ki5rpzGeTVsdOAbJGxQkeLfRg55GX49_DKjwh0ABG_dk_RCwbSsjeBbmJJ-U9aAk7LybHDY0wwNatwdgSoflWxQL3k7nqS0D8GwebIp0-XoXS9k3jNpb1qQtU4YOmTpXIxX46/s1600-h/Jayson14.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264216210192891314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkN3Sx30ki5rpzGeTVsdOAbJGxQkeLfRg55GX49_DKjwh0ABG_dk_RCwbSsjeBbmJJ-U9aAk7LybHDY0wwNatwdgSoflWxQL3k7nqS0D8GwebIp0-XoXS9k3jNpb1qQtU4YOmTpXIxX46/s320/Jayson14.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One of the faster ways to ferry through one point to another in Manila is taking the train. Yesterday, I came to realize that it has been ages since I took a train – 2 years ago, maybe. I deem public transportations such as the train and the jeepney uncomfortable modes to travel. I do not like the crowd, the hustle, and bustle, and all. The cab is the easier way to go places (well, for those who do not drive cars), I think. </span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="justify"><br />Yesterday, my friend Jayson and I went to the movie house in Gateway to see High School Musical. We were trying to figure out our next agenda after the movie when he received an invite to meet some friends at Trinoma. We decided that he would just tag me along and we’ll just meet his friends. I thought we were making our way out of the mall toward where the taxi queue is when he handed me a pre-paid MRT ticket - "one ride!", he said. WE-ARE-TAKING-THE-TRAIN. He has already decided, all to himself that we were taking the train. He is nowadays, into some sort of a thrift-program and thinks that taxi rides (when not in dire need of them) are unnecessary expenses. Well, I would like to say amen to that, but sorry, taking the train is kind of big deal with me. Sounds crazy, but I thought I‘d prefer taxi. Anyhow, after a while of debate, he won, leaving me with no choice. I even remember saying – “I won’t go anymore if we are taking the train.” He was asking me for better reasons to take the cab. And so there it goes - I was convinced that MRT would be the most appropriate transportation for us to be conveyed, at least for this one short trip. We walked through the crowd, stood in line, checked by security, waited for the train. Suddenly then, I felt the familiarity. It has been ages since I last took the train. I realized it was not as bad as I thought it would be. I was even standing halfway to Trinoma, and I found it funny because it was just okay. It did not hurt. I found it okay. The trip was easy. It was not as comfortable as it would have been on a cab, but it was easy. It was not like roller coaster. </div><div align="justify"><br />The journey through life, as it has been put by many people is like a roller coaster ride (I love roller coasters at carnivals, by the way). </div><div align="justify"><br />Yes, there are points in our lives when the riding gets tough like a roller coaster. These are the rides which get us to appreciate the easy going ones – when what tides us through is just like a train ride. Glad I had a one way ticket earlier today.<br /></div></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-7875506831284384282008-10-25T08:17:00.000-07:002008-11-06T09:19:04.139-08:00Three Decades of a Work In Progress<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMKBYuaMU2HQKTd91wk2jOwx4qGj_umJ0PV9uoFETGeUZw0f6vR6vLA3tK-FO9CFddtjxYV32LxSyfVDEosKajbA1FiwUxJkSwJS0WQgjww5eAx0uAweh3H60rBs5ombGS1ycH2fifGuE/s1600-h/DSCF2689.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261358270942214402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 245px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 215px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdMKBYuaMU2HQKTd91wk2jOwx4qGj_umJ0PV9uoFETGeUZw0f6vR6vLA3tK-FO9CFddtjxYV32LxSyfVDEosKajbA1FiwUxJkSwJS0WQgjww5eAx0uAweh3H60rBs5ombGS1ycH2fifGuE/s400/DSCF2689.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#ffffcc;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"><em> *Birthday present from Jayson</em></span><br /></span><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#ffffcc;"><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span> was inching close to being a year more aged, getting past 30, when I began to freak-out-of-sort about getting there. This realization came to me less than two hours before my 31st birthday strikes. For most, the freaking-out-turning-point comes on the 30th year. I just laughed it off back then.</span></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">But now, suddenly, I see people all around me, friends of mine, who have their acts together. Wife, kids, and a job they love – (well, for that job bit, I am loving mine) - things that I don't even really think about most days. Well, I am not screwing up my life. I also have my own deal of responsibilities – including but not limited to paying my bills. Paying my bills – the only ownership I can think of right off hand… How can I be 31? </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Looking back, the past 30 years of my life would not call for a celebration – a far call for a celebration of life, if I must say. For most part, it was shady. There were happy times but they just came in trickles. I am afraid that this freaking-out-of-sort would blossom into full-panic. I am somehow in my mid-life and have not yet found what it is to be really happy. I still have a handful of peace of mind issues and subjects on coming-to- terms-with-myself to deal with. </span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">I got way past 30, and maybe it was the demarcation line I have crossed. Maybe for most parts hereon, will be brighter. I am a work in progress.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="color:#ffffcc;">Anyhow….<br />There's something thrilling about the reckless abandon of youth. I don't want to lose that. That carefree attitude, that feeling of being tireless, and invincible - that's who I am; it's who I've always been. One minute, I am a jubilant youth, without any care in the wolrd, and before I know it, I’m 31.</span></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /><em><span style="color:#ffffcc;">I got way past 30, and maybe it was the demarcation line I have crossed. Maybe for most parts hereon, will be brighter. I am a work in progress.</span></em></div><br /><div align="justify"><br /></span></div></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-7571754319952784852008-10-23T23:35:00.001-07:002008-11-03T09:29:57.153-08:00A Handprint On My Heart<div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">the one embeded by my friend, Dhanton</span> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;">Also posted on my Friendster blog, 27 April 2008<br /></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="justify"><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260614670303145682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 111px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3Y-YRkahNJzspC08sbjzruiCaI-3QUUzZs6SndUZuuYBm49_VRH_pgKUbGnV739tqoxUhTBLyIojTDgslhBn3fcq8qI5GziyWX1ZSfHN3L5VRRAi-NqmlJYpr-CTefOkcyPJyYaWxnitM/s320/es.jpg" border="0" /></div></span><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><div align="justify"></div><div align="justify"><em><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></em></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="justify"></div><p align="justify"><em>"I've heard it said, that people come into our lives for a reason. Bringing something we must learn, and we are lead to those who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return. Well I don't know if I believe that's true. But I know I am who I am today because I knew you. Like a comet pulled from orbit as it passes the sun, like a stream that meets the boulder, halfway through the woods. Who can say if I've been changed for he better, but because I knew you, I have been changed for good."</em></p><p></p><p align="justify">Today marks one of the saddest times in my history. I got the message about the passing away of one the pleasantest people I have ever known – my good friend Dhanton Opiso. His life was taken by a motorcycle accident. I felt the anguish which was shortly escorted by resentment to myself. The last time I saw him was about three years ago. In one of the last communications we had, we were texting and arranging to meet up. I called the meeting off. I was busy at work during that time and just promised a rain check since I was not available. Now, I so badly yearn to pay that rain check but he is not available… would not be, anymore. I wish I knew better that time.<br />I am perpetually grateful to Heavenly Father for having made my path cross that of Dhanton’s. He has given his life so unselfishly to those he cared about. He was one of the most giving people I know, a friend with whom you can entrust your life with. I will always know and remember Dhanton as someone who puts so much responsibility on whatever he puts himself into, an intelligent person who was never too tired to share what he knew. Plenty a times, he has put his needs aside and would put others’ ahead them. I am just but grateful that I was able to experience this man – a friend, a younger brother, a big brother (when I am being stubborn), a classmate, a seatmate, a comedian, a numbers wizard, a partner-in-crime, a spirit-lifter, a confidant, a shoulder to cry on, a strong arm to raise you up, a man I will always remember with fondest and vivid memories. My college life and my life in general would not have been the same without this lad.<br />My buddy Dhanton, never will I hear that infectious laughter again or hear you narrate your stories. Never again I can come to you for doses of comfort when I need some. Nevertheless, you will echo in my heart for as long as I live. I will miss you for now but there’s so much to remember you by. Your friendship will be amongst my most priceless investments. Your inspiration will be there and shall be one of the strings that I will hold on to and will keep me going. All those we shared shall be kept in my book of life and be often revisited mostly when I need to smile. May the good Lord keep us until that day when we shall be joined in a happy reunion, me paying my rain check with you.<br />You have autographed your life with kindness. You took something out of your heart and put it into mine. I love you, my brother.</p><p align="justify"><em>“It well may be, that we will never meet again in this lifetime. So let me say before we part – so much of me is made from what I learned from you. You will be with me… like a handprint on my heart.”<br /></em><br /><br /></p></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-54453189407991588352008-10-22T16:49:00.000-07:002008-11-05T17:12:49.088-08:00What's Your Comfort food?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:78%;">Also posted on my Friendster Blog</span></span> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCQUGbeD335Kw4PmP1tQZ7UtAATyVZXseMZQTuutOI_cpsosPhKEcxuf_tnJKPTjUorXypC_wDqpPcSYClCiIcbbGCcCqfY32y5q9uBxZSqgQXIFbld8yLSnPtbinZjn7XTSJRUHR8ILJ/s1600-h/anne.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265346056566492642" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 133px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 93px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdCQUGbeD335Kw4PmP1tQZ7UtAATyVZXseMZQTuutOI_cpsosPhKEcxuf_tnJKPTjUorXypC_wDqpPcSYClCiIcbbGCcCqfY32y5q9uBxZSqgQXIFbld8yLSnPtbinZjn7XTSJRUHR8ILJ/s320/anne.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjWZC-p8476YFwqkNFT4NSCnFSjWJoHrbzJerNTrKgijQ_rgOR7bqSY7MMCelBqbUP-9mqX5MG83oF6WFINnHWpNLpMpIs0nxWKF3dW-Khka5J1e9RQ7xmSMUaIEk0BtnUoZzdY_cU8Du/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260131158213676290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 103px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjWZC-p8476YFwqkNFT4NSCnFSjWJoHrbzJerNTrKgijQ_rgOR7bqSY7MMCelBqbUP-9mqX5MG83oF6WFINnHWpNLpMpIs0nxWKF3dW-Khka5J1e9RQ7xmSMUaIEk0BtnUoZzdY_cU8Du/s320/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:180%;">I</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">was browsing through my pictures the other day and I came across this set from one out-of-town getaway I had with July and Anne. I remember it was just two weeks after I came back to work after a long sick leave because of the accident. One running tradition I have been doing <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4TLt1ij_XsLuviNOpxsh2kHeVIFPMMYJUeFeg8CP_dyolDQjp87Szo_MFnDEKoFofxckYcV5zO7VdFd7Bi-Zib_NymmpSliTXaW7TUy4CN_wK56uezQfIeF3oZJjHcdG53iyAlWBaIaQ/s1600-h/untitled2.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260130830121859058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 129px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 109px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL4TLt1ij_XsLuviNOpxsh2kHeVIFPMMYJUeFeg8CP_dyolDQjp87Szo_MFnDEKoFofxckYcV5zO7VdFd7Bi-Zib_NymmpSliTXaW7TUy4CN_wK56uezQfIeF3oZJjHcdG53iyAlWBaIaQ/s320/untitled2.bmp" border="0" /></a>with July, Anne, Yna and AJ is meeting together after sometime of not seeing each other because of our busy schedules and have our one short day for a lifetime of fun. We would just meet for breakfast or lunch, then go somewhere quiet and there we would do our catching-ups and updates.That time AJ and Yna were not able to come. Without any plans Anne (who was like 8 months pregnant then with my inaanak) and I decided to go with July to his appointment in Angeles. We drove all the way to Pampanga, went to July's, to his appointment and he brought us to this specialty restaurant, Northern Brews where we ate special pancakes over a round of laughs and stories. I could not even remember what each of our pancakes were called. I just remembered I had much fun eating them, feeling my soul was satisfied. They were palatable, fancy and delicious. I recall, I had much challenge moving around that time. My foot was still aching and I could not bear long walks. I decided to hit the road with them anyway. I just missed them so much. I realized the pancake I ate somewhat comforted me and the laughters we shared lifted my wounded spirit. Is pancake my comfort food? Maybe yes. But the best part of it was that I ate and shared my pancake with my comfort friends. I hope to get my second helping soon. </span></div></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-69512690487522148842008-10-22T16:36:00.000-07:002008-10-24T00:35:02.224-07:00Where Have All the Sea Turtles Gone?<div align="right"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;">Posted on my Friendster Blog - February 2, 2008. </span></div><div align="right"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;">Also posted on my friend, Jayson's blog site with consent : ).</span></div><div align="right"><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><p align="justify"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeP1HI9ry0pzLKZiYyEZpnn8VWB17210V1ITNixQPdAHSxA4zBdpQuU10CGyT-kUVbFYBkcVLXOxRnolWz990bvAl-1AI7_3xpWqDSlUHjtR3l1ZOv0dUd7UWnVmf-hzRsruiTBVMf2pw/s1600-h/turtle.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260128531455494210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 106px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeP1HI9ry0pzLKZiYyEZpnn8VWB17210V1ITNixQPdAHSxA4zBdpQuU10CGyT-kUVbFYBkcVLXOxRnolWz990bvAl-1AI7_3xpWqDSlUHjtR3l1ZOv0dUd7UWnVmf-hzRsruiTBVMf2pw/s320/turtle.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;">E</span>arlier at work my boss (and a friend), Jayson just out of no where asked me – “Where are the stuff you brought for us from Palawan?”. Kind of funny but the trip he was referring to was over a year ago and that I was not able to return to work for a long time after my vacation leave. He told me, that maybe it is now high time I gave them away. Preceding the trip was the dreadful day of the accident that changed my life forever. It was not after five long months that I was able to report back to work. After he popped the question, I had a quick flash back of the not so distant past. I bought miniature sea turtles from our final stop on our five-day getaway to Palawan last year. As I had my encounter with the red dump truck after the day we came back to Manila, I ended up being confined in room 618 of the World Citi Hospital. The small sea turtles? They ended up all crammed up in a shoe box under my bed. After two months, I was discharged from the hospital. They remained under my bed. After three months I was welcomed back to the office and I started to slowly get back to my office routines. My turtles are still under my bed. I am somehow a lot better now. My life is now back to normal by some means. My turtles? To this day, they are still under my bed, heaving up inside a box – all twenty-something of them.<br />“I don’t know.” I told Jayson rather jokingly but half-meant. “I might break down if I opened the box and see the small sea turtles.”<br />He said, “Tell yourself that you came to live this day to be able to give them to those whom they are supposed to go to.”<br />I am still struggling inside, resentful of my tragedy. I have not reached the point where I am able to embrace and accept my misfortune and the changes it has brought me. I am not yet there. Or will I ever be there?<br />For whatever it's worth, I reckon it made a lot of sense to me - I came to live this day to give my little Palawan turtles to whom they are supposed to go. I like this bit – I came to live this day.<br />So tonight, I will pull out the box under my bed and bravely open it. Well, I have not liberated myself from the aftereffects of the accident as of yet. But maybe I can start from setting the sea turtles free.<br /></p></span>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2429096714256515197.post-7267264902277294752008-10-22T16:08:00.000-07:002008-11-04T06:26:54.755-08:00Being Mark Twain<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_is8AR-7xLPmV6ZT2lnUlRPKQ-Om9X6m4Qi_XCEu56cvV1qy-QdQ_WOfuheQnuPRE8zOYV55z9yLpc1wya-hm3zSMAdJnOoMixbe3nHBi3ysRsG_XnFqLEd2pu87g4kOUmik9LTiSDLX/s1600-h/2444155099.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264480115115266130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 137px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx_is8AR-7xLPmV6ZT2lnUlRPKQ-Om9X6m4Qi_XCEu56cvV1qy-QdQ_WOfuheQnuPRE8zOYV55z9yLpc1wya-hm3zSMAdJnOoMixbe3nHBi3ysRsG_XnFqLEd2pu87g4kOUmik9LTiSDLX/s320/2444155099.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#339999;"><span style="font-size:180%;">M</span></span><span style="color:#ffffff;">ark</span> Twain has been one of my favorite poets of all time. You may know Mark Twain for some of his very popular books like Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. He was a writer and also a humorist, satirist and lecturer. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He once said/wrote: <em>"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did so. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Twenty years ago, I was a kid trying to keep a personal journal. It was a journal, a diary of sort that intended to tell travelogues of my daily life - at school, at church, at play. I lost maintenance of it as I was growing up. I realized I was a young blogger back then. I also realized I was not able to fossilize my early childhood memories as I failed to put more entries into it.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now, I would like to keep record of my thoughts and feelings to this time capsule that I would love to revisit years from now. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">To all who might be interested, the next posts on this blog site will be some chunks of my mind, my heart, of the things that make me happy, things that make me cry... </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here goes some bits and pieces of my life which I would like to share. Enjoy!!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Being Twain,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Lyndon</span></div></div>Lyndon Agduyenghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05224723980100703875noreply@blogger.com0