No classes today due to the typhoon...
damn im thankful for this one whole day of rest
Bur as i continue each day i felt like theres something missing in the torn pcs. of my nicotine patches... Theres this one person who unconsciously filled the hole in me. to that person you know who you are. a friend with benefits ei? hehehehe....
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
consuming a little space
What is it that we learn when we are in the classroom? I’ve been a student for about sixteen years and it is a question I ask all the time. 21 grams. 21 grams. That keeps reverberating in my head. What makes a man, man? My head seemed to have become a machine for so much questions ever since I entered school. Queries, are essential tools to reveal what’s unknown, an eye opener, a weapon to emancipate oneself from ones’ innocence. As for me it is a stepping stone to unbound oneself from the chains that is tightly surrounding our wrists to keep it from being apart. This is how I see it. But the best thing about it is that it led me to different experiences. Experiences which contributed so much to my character may it be positive, nor negative I can never deny the fact that it is one of the factors which gave so much impact to my life as a student and as an individual.
Everyday I sit on my own wooden chair which seemed to have begged for a bit of space inside the classroom. Thankful enough to fit in on just one corner standing still, and hoping to be given the permission to remain on its place pretending to be comfortable but very much satisfied to stay on the four corners of the room. That wooden chair became a mirror of my self. Each day I enter that room where my chair is placed and as I sit on it I start to get stuck in my own little brain with a wide ranged imagination wandering along the boulevard of my broken dreams, singing with all my twisted thoughts free flow to everlasting memories. As I turn my eyes around It has become easy to see who are lost, who are about to get lost and who are newly found. A classroom sets us in permanent time and space. But every time I’m inside this box I feel like it is what makes flying impossible. And that is why we keep on struggling, searching, praying that we will see something there in between, then and there that exceeds all we can dream. And that is how we found this portfolio as our own sanctuary . And our daily lectures are our own different experiences, which turned out to be the small accounts of our lives. We found a place where learning is a lifetime. welcome to our own classroom .
To end, this is what this portfolio is for; it is the document that shows the diversity of our group. A reminder, an invitation to remember; to commit what we’ve become to written memory.
Everyday I sit on my own wooden chair which seemed to have begged for a bit of space inside the classroom. Thankful enough to fit in on just one corner standing still, and hoping to be given the permission to remain on its place pretending to be comfortable but very much satisfied to stay on the four corners of the room. That wooden chair became a mirror of my self. Each day I enter that room where my chair is placed and as I sit on it I start to get stuck in my own little brain with a wide ranged imagination wandering along the boulevard of my broken dreams, singing with all my twisted thoughts free flow to everlasting memories. As I turn my eyes around It has become easy to see who are lost, who are about to get lost and who are newly found. A classroom sets us in permanent time and space. But every time I’m inside this box I feel like it is what makes flying impossible. And that is why we keep on struggling, searching, praying that we will see something there in between, then and there that exceeds all we can dream. And that is how we found this portfolio as our own sanctuary . And our daily lectures are our own different experiences, which turned out to be the small accounts of our lives. We found a place where learning is a lifetime. welcome to our own classroom .
To end, this is what this portfolio is for; it is the document that shows the diversity of our group. A reminder, an invitation to remember; to commit what we’ve become to written memory.
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