Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Sunday, December 27, 2020
note to self: ACCEPT
Wednesday, November 11, 2020
The 11th day of the 11th Month
It happened then. It's happening now.
It has been happening. Love. Hate.
Humpday. I could barely get out of bed.
I wasn’t hungry. I wasn't interested.
I feel really sick. Of this life. Of this world.
Sick inside, sick outside. Just sick. And tired.
Perhaps I needed a day. To get back on track.
I wanted to exist. I wanted to breathe.
My friends are celebrating their birthdays.
I am happy but can't do anything just now.
Everything seemed more distant.
Can I make it out of here, of this, alive?
I am working. I can. I will. I did. For hours.
I am getting comfortable with being a zombie.
I am working but I am laying flat in my mind.
My body, my thoughts, my future...rotting in the shadows.
What else do I need to do? Many. I’d rather starve.
It happened then. It's happening now.
It has been happening. Love. Hate.
I have gotten out of bed. But, you know, I'm dead.
Saturday, October 3, 2020
Tuesday, September 8, 2020
reminder
For daily commute. Plastics here & there.
The survival of the fittest
coz Stupid is forever.
Rhetoric is a poor substitute for action...
Data-driven decisions --- what is that?
Wash hands. Distance. Masks on. Survive.
Saturday, August 8, 2020
Reply to Query: Towards a Much Higher Education
The academic tasks of graduate school are just a third of the entire thing. Here you are tasked to read and critique journals, answer questions in front of your classmates who are practitioners too, research, prepare and present concepts and cases, review, synthesize and pass regular exams then prepare exit requirements that are like an undergrad thesis.
The second 3rd is the comprehensive exams which are also called the great divider, coz the results will determine whether you can go on to the last 3rd. Here you have to prove that you remembered all the concepts in all the major subjects you took, somewhat like the board exams. Passing ALL the subjects in the compre would mean taking to the next level (but of course, for non-thesis masters degree students, an industry paper and added subjects in the compre would be the difference).
Then comes the preparation of the 3 concept papers which takes several months and weeks of waiting for acceptance. Once one of the 3 is approved, a proposal for research is expected which would take another semester (for some, years). Then comes the proposal defense, facing the panel to convince them that you are indeed equipped to finish a research that would add to the literature or produce answers to some of life's questions or solutions to some of life's problems or implications to some of the existing policies and concerns. The results may either be accepted, rejected, or subject for re-examination and/or re-defense. Once accepted, you go through the rigorous research process for a year (for some, years) then go through the same panel defense again.
The doctor's degree is another thing, which somehow would take the same process, only that it would be much more comprehensive. Readings are doubled or tripled, presentations much longer and wider in coverage and exams more nerve-cracking.
Fast forward to comprehensive exams then dissertation work... For some universities, a public forum or plenary presentation is required before you are allowed to have your proposal defense... and a publication in an international journal is required before you are allowed to go through the final defense of your 3-part or 4-part dissertation which you are also bound to present in public for dissemination and utilization.
Graduate school is not for everyone (what I really meant was, it is not for the faint of heart). It is not even only for those who have high IQ... it requires higher EQ and FQ and AQ and SQ and whatever else. What's more challenging is the mandate to always produce scholarly works or else feel like you are not deserving of your degree... and the call to always be humble and see people and circumstances in a much wider and deeper perspective. If you know of some who do not act that way, and possibly didn't go through the same process but acts like a know-it-all, then it's a personality thing :) After all, there are public servants who do not serve the public and church people who also defend the violators of the 10 commandments. Ganun lang
The second 3rd is the comprehensive exams which are also called the great divider, coz the results will determine whether you can go on to the last 3rd. Here you have to prove that you remembered all the concepts in all the major subjects you took, somewhat like the board exams. Passing ALL the subjects in the compre would mean taking to the next level (but of course, for non-thesis masters degree students, an industry paper and added subjects in the compre would be the difference).
Then comes the preparation of the 3 concept papers which takes several months and weeks of waiting for acceptance. Once one of the 3 is approved, a proposal for research is expected which would take another semester (for some, years). Then comes the proposal defense, facing the panel to convince them that you are indeed equipped to finish a research that would add to the literature or produce answers to some of life's questions or solutions to some of life's problems or implications to some of the existing policies and concerns. The results may either be accepted, rejected, or subject for re-examination and/or re-defense. Once accepted, you go through the rigorous research process for a year (for some, years) then go through the same panel defense again.
The doctor's degree is another thing, which somehow would take the same process, only that it would be much more comprehensive. Readings are doubled or tripled, presentations much longer and wider in coverage and exams more nerve-cracking.
Fast forward to comprehensive exams then dissertation work... For some universities, a public forum or plenary presentation is required before you are allowed to have your proposal defense... and a publication in an international journal is required before you are allowed to go through the final defense of your 3-part or 4-part dissertation which you are also bound to present in public for dissemination and utilization.
Graduate school is not for everyone (what I really meant was, it is not for the faint of heart). It is not even only for those who have high IQ... it requires higher EQ and FQ and AQ and SQ and whatever else. What's more challenging is the mandate to always produce scholarly works or else feel like you are not deserving of your degree... and the call to always be humble and see people and circumstances in a much wider and deeper perspective. If you know of some who do not act that way, and possibly didn't go through the same process but acts like a know-it-all, then it's a personality thing :) After all, there are public servants who do not serve the public and church people who also defend the violators of the 10 commandments. Ganun lang
Thursday, July 2, 2020
Thursday, June 25, 2020
Tuesday, May 5, 2020
Wednesday, April 1, 2020
the scrolls...
Og Mandino composed The Legend Of The Ten Scrolls in his
book The Greatest Salesman in the World....
They are:
Scroll II - Greet Each Day With Love In Your Heart
Scroll III - Persist Until You Succeed
Scroll IV - You Are Natures Greatest Miracle
Scroll V - Live Each Day as if it Were Your Last
Scroll VI - Master Your Emotions
Scroll VII - The Power of Laughter
Scroll VIII - Multiply Your Value Every Day
Scroll IX - All is Worthless Without Action
Scroll X - Pray to God for Guidance
His primary message was to NOT procrastinate.
In the marking of Scroll IX, "I will act now" is written 18 times.
Even some of the texts did have Christian undertones
(by referring to St.Paul as the greatest salesman in the world),
it was still a message of repetitive actions to build good habits.
The Greatest Salesman in the World was (first) published in 1968
(and re-issued in 1983 by Bantam). The 128-page book has become a guide
to a philosophy of salesmanship, and success, telling the story of Hafid---
a poor camel boy who achieves a life of goodness and abundance.
Then there is this sequel to this bestselling book (The End of Story),
published in 1988 and set back forty years later the first part;
the main character Hafid is in a sad state, mourning the loss of his wife, Lisha.
The story starts years into Hafid’s seclusion, when a dream convinces him
to see a stranger that turns up on his doorstep and pulls Hafid
out of retirement to embarke on a new adventure: (a speaking tour)
to enlighten others about the principles enclosed in The Ten Scrolls.
My dear boyman Wowa loved the books. He dreams of becoming a
great salesman too. Oh well, we can always dream and work for our
dreams right?
Sunday, March 22, 2020
Friday, February 14, 2020
throwback 2014: eurosa's flashback
The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I was at ‘that’ place. I have seen ‘the man’ for the last time on that dreaded 24th of March year 2009. On that afternoon, torrents of rain were pouring dreadfully in my black umbrella as I was about to go inside. It was an unexpected rain since it was almost summer time of the year. I felt the heavens must have been feeling what I am feeling. It was my only solace; it wept with me.
As I walked along the dark hall entrance, I felt numbness in my entire body. I was nearing insanity, once more. I saw from afar piles of coffins across the other end. I moved closely scrutinizing each, some made of wood and some made of metal. There were assorted colors: red, black, white, silver, gold. Some had intricate designs of Christ’s last supper; others had carved angel designs, most were just plain old, classic-looking coffins. I told myself I wanted none of them when I die. I prefer to be cremated.
Later that afternoon, I had a hard time contemplating, whether or not, to go inside the next room which reads “STRICTLY NO ENTRY”. It was the Embalming Room. I could no longer help it; I had to see him for the very last time before he gets embalmed. The smell of Formalin was somewhat inviting and so; I finally decided to go inside, without any hesitation. Inside that room lay three bodies whose souls have been stripped off by a so-called “Divine Entity”. Their deaths must have been caused by either of two factors, either: an ill-fated accident or a self-destructing vice. Or who knows?
Two corpses were covered with white blankets and were sadly situated on the floor. Seemed to me that this is nothing but showing a lack of compassion towards the dead. I wondered why they would leave the bodies in the floor when there are enough vacant tables. The other body was placed on top of the operating table. Because of the familiar-looking blanket with dark red floral designs, I began to recognize that this body in the operating table was him. I uncovered the body and the sight broke my heart. I looked at him very closely for a couple of minutes because I wanted to imprint this memory in my head for me to remember that moment for the rest of my life. That moment was so precious since it will be the last time that I will see him in his natural, lifeless state since later on he will undergo a post-mortem examination and have the vital parts of his body removed. I held his hand for the last time, poked his pale arms and cried, “Papa, please don’t forget what I told you, keep in touch okay?” Yes, that man is my father. He was my father.
As I started to observe the place, the four walls of the room began to feel creepy. It was deafeningly silent and badly lit. I smell mixed chemical solutions but the only smell which overpowered my olfactory system was Formalin. In the tray, I saw scissors, knives, injections and other sharp objects used for embalming. At the corner of the operating table were long, narrow tubes used to remove blood. I was inside that dreaded place, and I realized I shouldn’t be there. I swore to myself that, as long as I am still alive, that would be the first and last time I’m going inside a place like that. It made me reflect about my own death as well and it also made me realize that I should cherish the life that I have.
The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I guess ‘that’ is the place, and there is no other place that can display the inconvenient truth about human beings ephemeral existence, but ‘the morgue’. We are born and then we begin to die. In between, we live. In between, like my father, I’d try live.
As I walked along the dark hall entrance, I felt numbness in my entire body. I was nearing insanity, once more. I saw from afar piles of coffins across the other end. I moved closely scrutinizing each, some made of wood and some made of metal. There were assorted colors: red, black, white, silver, gold. Some had intricate designs of Christ’s last supper; others had carved angel designs, most were just plain old, classic-looking coffins. I told myself I wanted none of them when I die. I prefer to be cremated.
Later that afternoon, I had a hard time contemplating, whether or not, to go inside the next room which reads “STRICTLY NO ENTRY”. It was the Embalming Room. I could no longer help it; I had to see him for the very last time before he gets embalmed. The smell of Formalin was somewhat inviting and so; I finally decided to go inside, without any hesitation. Inside that room lay three bodies whose souls have been stripped off by a so-called “Divine Entity”. Their deaths must have been caused by either of two factors, either: an ill-fated accident or a self-destructing vice. Or who knows?
Two corpses were covered with white blankets and were sadly situated on the floor. Seemed to me that this is nothing but showing a lack of compassion towards the dead. I wondered why they would leave the bodies in the floor when there are enough vacant tables. The other body was placed on top of the operating table. Because of the familiar-looking blanket with dark red floral designs, I began to recognize that this body in the operating table was him. I uncovered the body and the sight broke my heart. I looked at him very closely for a couple of minutes because I wanted to imprint this memory in my head for me to remember that moment for the rest of my life. That moment was so precious since it will be the last time that I will see him in his natural, lifeless state since later on he will undergo a post-mortem examination and have the vital parts of his body removed. I held his hand for the last time, poked his pale arms and cried, “Papa, please don’t forget what I told you, keep in touch okay?” Yes, that man is my father. He was my father.
As I started to observe the place, the four walls of the room began to feel creepy. It was deafeningly silent and badly lit. I smell mixed chemical solutions but the only smell which overpowered my olfactory system was Formalin. In the tray, I saw scissors, knives, injections and other sharp objects used for embalming. At the corner of the operating table were long, narrow tubes used to remove blood. I was inside that dreaded place, and I realized I shouldn’t be there. I swore to myself that, as long as I am still alive, that would be the first and last time I’m going inside a place like that. It made me reflect about my own death as well and it also made me realize that I should cherish the life that I have.
The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I guess ‘that’ is the place, and there is no other place that can display the inconvenient truth about human beings ephemeral existence, but ‘the morgue’. We are born and then we begin to die. In between, we live. In between, like my father, I’d try live.
Wednesday, January 8, 2020
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