Book of Daniel

Here's something from high school... with the appropriate pauses. :D I love this piece titled "Land of Bondage, Land of the Free" by Raul Manglapus

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Once upon a time,/ the tao owned a piece of land.// It was all he owned.// But he cherished it,/ for it gave him three things, having which,/ he was contended:// life first of all, /and liberty,/ and happiness.//
Then one day, / the Spaniard came and commanded him/ to pay tribute to the crown of Spain.// The tao paid tribute.// And he was silent--/ he was certain that he was still master of his land.//
The Spaniard became rich.// But with riches, evil entered into him/ and he came to the tao the second time.// He read to the tao a formidable document saying:// “According to this decreto real,/ which unfortunately you cannot read/ this, what you have been paying me is not tribute but rent, for the land is not yours but mine.// The tao paid the tribute and said nothing…// He ceased to be a freeman.// He became a/ serf.// Still, the tao held his peace.// The rent went up and up.// The tao starved.//
And this time, at last he spoke.// Not in words,/ but with that rustic instrument/ with which he cleared the land/ once his own-/ the bolo.// He transformed it from an instrument of tillage/ to an instrument of death,// and with it,/ drove away the stranger.// Then he returned to his field saying:/ “Now indeed/ shall I again be master of this land,/ once my own, but stolen from me/ by the trickery of quicker wits than mine.””//
But the tao/ was wrong.// For the land had another master.// This time not a stranger,/ but his own countryman grown rich.// The tao had a new name,/kasama,/ which to us means/ ‘partner’,/ but which to countrymen/ the same things he had suffered from the stranger:/ the rents,/ the usury,/ and all the rest of it.//
Yes,/ the tao returned to his field thinking that he was free,// But he soon discovered/ that he was still a prisoner.//His prison,/ a two-room shack, rent by every wind,/ without any comforts,/ except/ that three families have been there/ the privilege to starve.// The tao’s home has become his very prison.// Its doors,// if you can call them such,/ are wide open.// It is a prison, nonetheless.// For the tao is bound to it,/ not with chains of steel,/ but with a stronger chain,// his honor.// To this day,/ the tao remains a slave,/ a prisoner/ of the usurer.//
No wonder then,/ that the tao,/ being a slave,/ has acquired the habits of a slave.// No wonder that after three centuries in chains,/ without freedom,/ without hope,/ he should lose the erect and fearless posture of the freeman/ and become the bent, misshapen,/ indolent/ vicious,/ pitiful thing that he is!// Who dares accuse him,/ who dares rise up in judgment against this man,/ reduced to this subhuman level by three centuries of oppression?// The tao does not come here tonight to be judged-// but to judge!// Hear then/ his accusation and his sentence.//
I indict the Spanish encomendero// for inventing taxes impossible to bear:// I indict the usurer for saddling me with debts impossible to pay.//
I indict the irresponsible radical leaders/ who undermine with insidious eloquence/ the confidence of my kind in our government.//
You accuse me of not supporting my family.// Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of ignorance.// But I am ignorant because my master finds it profitable to keep me ignorant.// Free me from bondage / and I shall prove you false.//
You accuse me of indolence.// But I am indolent/ not because I have no will,./ but because I have no hope.// Why should I labor/ if all the fruits of my labor/ go to pay an unpayable debt?// Free me from bondage/ and I shall prove you false.//
Give me land.// Land to own.// Land ‘unbeholden to any tyrant.// Land that will be free.// Give me land for I am starving.// Give me land that my children may not die.// Sell it to me,/ sell it to me at a fair price./ as one freeman sells to another/ and not as a usurer sells to a slave./// I am poor, / but I will pay it!// I will work,/ work/ until I fall from weariness for my privileges,/ for my inalienable right to be free.//
BUT IF YOU WILL NOT GRANT ME THIS… // If you will not grant me this last request,/ this ultimate demand,// then build a wall around your home//… build it high build it strong. // place a sentry on every parapet!... for I who have been silent these three hundred years/ will come in the night when you are feasting,/ with my cry, and my bolo at your door.// And may God/ have mercy on your soul! //

We were walking down a grassy hill having a good time talking about something light - it was not about the economy or politics or our own financial troubles – it was about something pleasing. The park we were in had a few people in it but not enough to cause urban noise. In fact, all of them seem to be in some sort of a perfect world. Everyone was carefree. Then I suddenly remembered something. I need to be somewhere else. I fumbled for the watch in my pocket and for some reason could not quite figure out what the time was. The minute hand was saying that it’s 32 minutes past something.

I ran like hell.

I left my companion without notification. My goal was certain: I cannot be late again. But late for what? I knew I was going to be late for something but could not remember. I knew I was going to be in big trouble also if I do not make it in time. So I ran, ran, ran. I ran so fast that I hardly noticed that my surrounding has changed already. There were no more people in the park, no more trees, no green grasses. In fact, the whole park was gone. I was zigzagging my way across people in suits now. I was still running fast… then I started to slow down involuntarily. The more I pushed my legs against the concrete floor, the harder it became to move faster. It was futile. I struggled for a moment then what I saw next stopped me on my tracks. It was my destination. It was a building. I need to do something important inside the building. I need to enter it fast but I could not move. It’s not fair. It doesn’t make any sense at all.

Then everything started to make sense and upon realization of the situation, I was brought back to my room with my face on my pillow. I saw a blurry image of my brother so I called for help. I was still asleep but I was aware. I tried to move but all that I could do was shake my whole body like an electric toothbrush. I tried to shout at him but all I made were moaning sounds. I was shaking and moaning like my mouth was shut by duck tape. My brother finally noticed what was happening to me then he started to wake me up.

“What happened to you?” he said. “I was having a nightmare and you woke me up from it.” I said nonchalantly.

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Anyone wants to tell me what that means? :D

One typical morning, a friend and I had a typical conversation:

Friend: Why do guys like breasts so much? They're just udders.

Danes: Social upbringing?

Friend: So how exactly do you teach guys to like udders?

Danes: American Pie 1, 2, 3 and 4. O yeah, let's not forget breastfeeding. Don't tell me you don't touch your breasts to give yourself pleasure?

Friend: I don't. Haha. So does that mean society failed in the upbringing of gay men?

Danes: Good question. Maybe.

Friend: So if a girl says to a guy, touch my udders, guys gets all excited, says, you mean your breasts? Girl says, no I mean my udders, and the guy gets all confused?

Danes: The guy could have said "whatever" and touched the udders anyway. Touch 'em like precious breasts.

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Here's a typical afternoon at EEE's Quietzone. I guess if you're an engineer-in-the-making, it's more of a necessity to have a portable computer than just sheer want.  How many laptops can you see in this picture?