Sunday, September 12, 2004

on 11:54 PM Some Good Things Never Last It's harsh reality that sometimes we have to face. A point in life where we have to learn life's valuable lessons. A point in life where we are supposed to grow. A point in life where we are supposed to continue our voyage alone. Thank you for supporting twentyplusone. It was the testament of two different people. One great love story. Thanks for being a part of that story. Meanwhile, please support my blog, Project: Marooned. Please update your links. You can remove twentyone and replace Project: marooned instead. I hope we can still maintain the friendship and correspondence. Godspeed and see you at Project: Marooned. Note: To the bloggers who linked us up before, you are linked at Project: marooned. So link me up or edit my link! :) www.marooned.here.ws - Alwyne |

 Tuesday, July 06, 2004

on 12:29 PM My Polish-Influenced Filipino Nationalism I'm not sure whether I was able to publish this one in my previous blogs. Nonetheless, I'll just publish it again (if ever I published it before, get it?) for the sake of the new visitors to our blog. ***** We Filipinos are known to have corrupt politicians, fraud businessmen and apathetic citizens who break laws despite heavy punishment enforced by the government. These sad facts have made us accept a false reality that our country is going down the drain. It made us feel less enthusiastic in accepting who we are despite our proud history and made us indifferent towards the plight of our nation. I admit that I was like this before but things changed after I met Ala. I met Ala when I was in Italy for the World Youth Day in Rome last 2000. At first glance, Ala is just typical Polish girl. She has fair complexion, freckled skin and blonde hair. With her looks and her playfulness, she seems to be the kind of person who would waste her time cooing on her favorite fairy tale and gravely fantasizing about her favorite male actor. When I got the chance to talk to her during one of our afternoon gatherings in the catechetical site, I never realized how much a profound person she is. When she approached me while we were learning the Turkish dance, I sensed that I wouldn't have a hard time dealing with her because of her sweet smile that radiates friendliness and sincerity. However, I was quite hesitant about striking a conversation with her since some Europeans do not know how to speak in English or if they do, they have difficulty in understanding English. It took me a minute to decide whether or not I will talk to her nonetheless I smiled back and said "Ciao!" Ala waved back, approached and asked me questions most people ask every time they meet new people. She asked what my name is, age, nationality and several stuff, which seemed like a slum book to me. The whole afternoon was so much for both of us. We danced with the other delegates and sat beneath an olive tree afterwards. While sitting under the shade, I asked Ala how it is to live in Poland. When she told me that Poland is a terrible country to live in, I noticed that it wasn't hard for her to say it. She boldly told me that she never loved her country and her nationality as a Polish and wishes to become an Irish instead. I got curious about what she said and asked her why she wished she were an Irish and not a Polish. Vividly, she described her country as a place where people break law like crashing into someone's place and stealing stuff, where people throw their trashes everywhere, and where people live in houses with dirty facilities and never clean them a place where there is too much instability in the government and a place where people have a distorted sense of nationalism. She told me how much she admires the Irish people because of their elegant lifestyle and impressive culture. She admires the Irish people because they have disciplined people and a more stable government and most of all the Irish people have a great sense of love for their country unlike in Poland. That single event has created an impact in the way I think about myself. I have realized that I am not the only person who has kept an angst toward my country. I never wished I were born with a different nationality or have I? In a way I did, I did lambaste my own country by criticizing how corrupt the government is and how lazy the people are. I am proud I am a Filipino but my thoughts were not reflected on my actions. Maybe in a way, I have become one of the people who are indifferent towards the plight of our nation and because of this, I have become one of the people who gave up their hopes about the country's situation. At times I have considered the thought of living in another country because there are no longer greener pastures here. Then again, because of Ala, I have seen how rotten my sense of nationalism is towards my nation. It is only then that I realize that despite the hopeless case our country is facing and the fact that our people are becoming less enthusiastic in appreciating our lives as Filipinos, one person could still create a spark of hope to uplift our nation's condition. That person could later on encourage other Filipinos to join in promoting our sense of nationalism. The pride of being Filipino that I am carrying right now is due to Ala's discontent about her life in Poland and her nationality as a Polish. It is too ironic that a person who has a weak sense of nationalism has taught me to love my country more and create a positive outlook towards the progress of my nation. |

 Thursday, July 01, 2004

on 12:37 PM My Other Names I owe AJ a lot of blog entries... I just want to share to you my other names... According to Tolkien's name translation: If I were a Hobbit, my name would be Dangwen Proudfoot If I were a (female) Man (get it?), it would be Pruveth If I were an Elf, it would be Unádith If I were a Dwarf, it would be Lolyan If I were an Orc, I would be the most and only gorgeous orc (kidding!), it would be Godash My sword would be called the Pelatus. However, I discovered more than that! According to the Red Book of Westmarch, In Middle-earth, my name means that I was a Drunken Cave-Troll!!! <-- really?! I never drink! Elven Name Possibilities for my name The root name suitable for feminine and masculine is: Balefalma Another masculine version is: Balefalmaion More feminine versions are: Balefalmaiel Balefalmaien Balefalmawen Hobbit lad name: Hildibrand Hornblower from Buckland Hobbit lass name: Goodchild Hornblower from Buckland Dwarven Name: Drár Mithrilfury This name is for both genders. Orkish Name: Grúbukh the Slobberer This name is for both genders. 'Guess I'm fit to be a character in Tolkien's books. I guess I would be Legolas' leading elf, that means I would replace Grimli, his leading dwarf, haha... :D Get it? I just hope that the people who watched LOTR noticed that Grimli and Legolas has this intimate relationship. It was most evident in LOTR2 where Grimli, Legolas and Aragorn encountered the riders of Rohan. Moving on... I also reseached in the internet what my name would be if I were a female robot and TIEZA means: Technician Intended for Exploration and Zealous Assassination I protest to that! I'm not meant for zealous assassination!!! This is the most interesting!!! If I were a pirate my name would be: Calico Bess Rackham Meaning that I am often indecisive, I can't even choose a favorite color. I'm apt to follow wherever the wind blows me, just like Calico Jack Rackham, my namesake. I have the good fortune of having a good name, since Rackham (pronounced RACKem, not rack-ham) is one of the coolest sounding surnames for a pirate. Arr! |

 Sunday, June 27, 2004

on 12:58 PM Shrek no more! I'm gonna kill AJ for posting Shrek's pic in the blog!!! He know how much I hate Shrek!!! Spare Puss in Boots, he's the most adorable thing in the world. BUT DEFINITELY NOT SHREK!!! ARR!!! Take it out will ya! ARGH.... :O |

 Saturday, June 26, 2004

on 1:00 AM UP Manila Student Stabbed to Death I am a student from UP manila for almost 4 years now. Thank God that never in those four years that I experienced being robbed at by thugs much less than being stabbed to death. However, as I was about to post here in the blog (I was intending to post another thing about: "Prayer of Death" in Friendster), the late night news flashed that there was a UP Manila student who was robbed and stabbed to death when he was riding an FX on the way home from school. The other passengers didn't even notice that the poor guy is being murdered at the back of the FX. According to the news the student died before he was rushed to the hospital. These things pains me. I remember what one of my professors said in her class. That there is such thing called as the law of averages, meaning: one of these days and if the odds are right, it might be our turn to get robbed, assaulted, or get killed. Honestly, I'm scared. Maybe one of these days, it would be my turn. I am afraid to die. I am more afraid of a painful death, just what like the poor student suffered. I can deal with being robbed. Heck, take what you want. I can earn it back. I myself had been a veteran with pickpockets (twice!) and experienced being robbed with my whole family at gunpoint. But what I am afraid of nowadays is that even if the victim does not fight back nor even scream back, he is still sure to get stabbed because the thugs are afraid that he might scream and get attention should they just be few meters away. What scares me the most? That life should go on. That I should walk on the streets very paranoid because my government whose duty is to protect me can not. That it is up to me to protect myself when it is my inherent right to be at places I willed to go without feeling threatened of anything. Things has to change. |

 Sunday, June 13, 2004

on 7:22 PM 2 weeks of unblogging Was it already 2 weeks? I am sorry if it took me that long to update. Honest, I thought it was just days ago since I last posted. Time sure do flies fast. What am I doing that caused me not to blog? One word: School. Since this is to be my last semester of being a student (hopefully.) I'm very busy with the enrolment. Well, others had a breeze on their enrolment but not me. Since I am the complete opposite of what you call a diligent student, I have to pass long overdue requirements because I can't enrol due to the deffeciencies I had the previous semester. Really, while others are psyching themselves to be ready for school, here I am rushing as if it is the end of the term already. Serves me right. Moral Lesson: FINISH YOUR WORK ON TIME. How about Tiez? Why isn't she blogging? Hmm... she's very busy too, but because she is very diligent (my complete opposite). She volunteered to be one of the registration committees in Ateneo. That ate up most of her time, well, I feel a little jealous, honestly. :) So, what happened the last week? I'm kinda pissed off with what's happening with the Presidential Canvass their at Congess. Those morons, their wasting valuable time here. I don't say I'm blaming the opposition for it, theirs is one of the essence of a solid democracy, but what democracy will we have left if we don't have a President proclaimed by June 30? I guess, this is the high time evryone should work together. |

 Saturday, May 29, 2004

on 12:47 AM Wrong Funeral I've been checking my friendster account a while ago (for those who wants to add me, my email is aj.perez@lycos.com - nag-plug pa ano po?). There's something in my bulletin board that caught my attention. It was entitled, "Wrong Funeral." I was intrigued by the title so I read the bulletin post, which turned out to be a short story ... a very beautiful short story. Let me share it with you. Wrong Funeral - Author Unknown Consumed by my loss, I didn't notice the hardness of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend - my mother. She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense, I found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at my school plays, held a box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak, comforted me at my father's death, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me my entire life. When Mother's illness was diagnosed, my sister had a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it fell on me, the 27-year-old middle child without entanglements, to take care of her. I counted it an honor. "What now, Lord?" I asked sitting in church. My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss. My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his wife's hand. My sister sat slumped against her husband's shoulder, his arms around her as she cradled their child. All so deeply grieving, no one noticed I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping her walk,taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible together. Now she was with the Lord. My work was finished, and I was alone. I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of the church. Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor. An exasperated young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me. He folded his hands and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears. He began to sniffle. "I'm late," he explained, though no explanation was necessary. After several eulogies, he leaned over and commented, "Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of 'Margaret'?" "Because that was her name, Margaret. Never Mary. No one called her 'Mary,'" I whispered. I wondered why this person couldn't have sat on the other side of the church. He interrupted my grieving with his tears and fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway? "No, that isn't correct," he insisted, as several people glanced over at us whispering, "Her name is Mary, Mary Peters." "That isn't who this is." "Isn't this the Lutheran church?" "No, the Lutheran church is across the street." "Oh." "I believe you're at the wrong funeral, Sir." The solemness of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man's mistake bubbled up inside me and came out as laughter. I cupped my hands over my face, hoping it would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away. Sharp looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious. I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated beside me. He was laughing, too, as he glanced around, deciding it was too late for an uneventful exit. I imagined Mother laughing. At the final "Amen," we darted out a door and into the parking lot. "I do believe we'll be the talk of the town," he smiled. He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt's funeral, asked me out for a cup of coffee. That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with this man who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place. A year after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the assistant pastor. This time we both arrived at the same church, right on time. In my time of sorrow, God gave me laughter. In place of loneliness, God gave me love. This past June we celebrated our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, "Her mother and my Aunt Mary introduced us, and it's truly a match made in heaven." ********** Awwwww. |

 Wednesday, May 26, 2004

on 12:28 AM Shrek! Shrek! Shrek! I will not write anymore about the movie Shrek 2. I am afraid that if I write something about it, I would just end up on the floor laughing hard again. If you already watched Shrek 2, you'll know what I'm talking about. So, in lieu for words, I'll just post pictures of my favorite scenes in the movie: Shrek and Fiona's first time to meet the parents. (Reminds me of a De Niro - Stiller movie) My favorite "soup joke" Would you guys believe that it is CNN's LARRY KING who did the voice for the ugly stepsister? And my favorite of all: Awwwwwwwww.... need I say more? I can't find pictures of one my other favorite scene in the movie... the Pinocchio in Thongs joke. Anyway, I won't say much for the benefit of those who aint watched the movie yet. Believe me, it's the best movie this year. Yeah, better than the movies with real actors in it. Hurry and watch. I might give spoilers next time. But before that let's talk about the movie Troy next time. I have lots of angst to give. All pictures of Shrek 2 is copyrighted by Dreamworks Animations |

 Sunday, May 23, 2004

on 2:17 AM Welcome back It's been a year since I was thinking what gift I would give Tiez on our 1 year and 3 months together as a couple. After seeing some of my friends do it, I then decided the best gift I would give her on that day would be a blog. Of course, the blog I had in mind is not just a typical blog, I wanted it to be a joint blog so we could share into something beautiful. Little did I know that the gift I made was way too beautiful. I admit that I also enjoyed the blog myself. We met new people and made lots of new friends. We were overwhelmed by the warmth our fellow bloggers extended to us. Our eyes were opened too by reading the journals our fellow bloggers had and enjoyed their stories and of course laughed about their rants and raves. The computer monitor instantly became a warm world for Tiez and I. Then, the unthinkable happened. We just stopped blogging. For reasons we had, Twentyone*! ceased to exist. Many were concerned why we suddenly disappeard. For us, we had different 'priorities' already and blogging seemed not to be one of it. Twentyone *! is the baby we never had. Twentyone *! is the mirror of our daily lives together as a couple. They say when you love someone very much, you have to shout it on the rooftops. That's why Twentyone *! is back. And promise, it'll only cease when Tiez and I already cease. Therefore, Twentyone *! will never cease. To our friends on the blogging world, Thanks very much. Welcome back. We're back home. **** I just like to say thank you to those who supported the first blog we had, I was saddened to know that some of them are gone from blogging too. But some are still here, Thank God. Sinta, Pao, Dindin, Liz, Rica, Mitch, Abi, Beej, Mart, Randy, June, Patricia, Bobbie, Zaji, Christine, Casey, Karla, Ayeza, Gimo, Margaux, Achie, Johanna, Dan, Teng and Ley. There are others we may have forgotten but remember this, only your names were forgotten, not the warmth you shared. Guys, thank you. |

 Friday, May 21, 2004

on 8:00 PM From Blog to Love For months AJ and I have been debating over the issue whether to continue our blogging or not. He goes on saying that the blog is almost like our baby, that we should take care of it (by updating it with fresh stories and articles). Since we are too young and still ambitious to get married and think about getting married and other stuff that goes with it, might as well devote our time in blogging, where we could express our opinions and points of view, our hopes, dreams, ambitions and future plans (do not forget rant). I guess AJ is right, writers as we are, we should always keep in mind that there should not be a day that would pass where we would not write even a single paragraph to hone this skill. Unlike the old cliche that goes: Geniuses are born, not made, writers on the other hand are made, are honed. Even though someone who is born of a parent who is a writer, though he or she may possess this talent, it could never translate into a skill if he or she does not practice. Writing is not just a talent, it is also a skill. Writing can never be a talent without a skill in it nor it can be called a skill without talent. As I was saying a while ago, this blog is the expression of our souls. This is where our being writers is shown (displayed, exhibited, flaunted, call whatever you like to call it). This blog is not only our baby but somehow our diary as well. This archive would remind us of how we expressed ourselves (and our love too... oh mushy...) in writing as well as how we matured as writers and as lovers. And when we grow old, (senti song fades in) - hoping that this blog lasts and that we last - this would take us back to the years where we expressed our love into writing (senti song fades out). Until now I cann not imagine how hard we have tried to keep this blog. Maybe it reflects how much AJ and I love each other ... we try hard to stay in the relationship, despite the odds and turns, the tears and smile. I just can not imagine how we have gone this far, to stay in a relationship where everyone else look at as hopeless. And most of all I just can not imagine how strong we are to face everyday without the fear of getting separated, because we believe in us. AJ and I are writers, we are lovers too. In both ways, like what my favorite poet, Frost, wrote, we have taken the road less traveled by, both in writing and love. Maybe for the past months I was too lazy to update the blog (bonk me in the head) did it reflect how I neglected our relationship too, how slow-paced have it become? Yes, the past months have been difficult for both of us. We faced something big that challenged us both. Then again, it is true that a love that is so real could surpass all trials and will never fade. I just hope that this blog goes on forever, more to our love. |

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.

Some Rights Reserved 2003 by Alwyne Jan Perez and Tieza Mica Santos
Any part of this web log (skins, contents, images, etc.) are privately owned and can not be
reproduced in part or in whole without explicit permission from the webmaster.
All the views and opinions of the authors are covered by the right to free speech