Saturday, 7 November 2015

Epic


You don't geto film an incident like this everyday and this is so worth posting! I know that if my friend will find outhat I have posted this clip of her doing a cartwheel in space for sure I will be receiving a grenade delivered straighto my house. It may sound that I have no compunction of doing such conceited crime buto tell you honestly I am athe moment crying. My tears are storming for two reasons: first, I feel bad abouthis but a large quantity of my tears was shed because I am laughing so damn hard AGAIN. (I mean, who wouldn't?) I can't really forgeeverybody's expression  and reaction when this happened. Others shouted, half were worried but all of us laughed I love you Alms and you know that!

For the information of everybody, this was filmed in Mag-aso Falls in Antequera when we were doing the Legend of Osiris. 
#EpicFail

Saturday, 31 October 2015

The Cliff


The Cliff

If your mother is a teacher expect that your playground is the school. You enter classes that are not yours and make fun of the teacher’s illustrations. You snatch other kids’ food, you bully them and you make fun of them. You have the full access to the school’s surroundings and a passport to the Grade 6 pupil’s garden. The school was like a park to me, a paradise to discover especially the cliff in the backyard of the school. The cliff was a result to a natural cause where big waves splash to the shore and eroding its soil until it was eating slowly by slowly the land, creating a picturesque of a 15 feet cliff. The soil in the cliff was like a dress slowly being taken off by the hands of Poseidon and showing us the naked roots of trees and buried materials. In the backyard of the school, there were also lots of Ipil- ipil trees which Ma’am Amor,  the Grade 6 adviser,  used to get some for her goat and sometimes  fooled her pupils to get some of those green Ipil-Ipil branches in exchange for higher grades. There were also bushes there, tall enough to hide the butt of the pupils when they poop. Among the Ipil-ipil trees and the tall bushes were old Mahogany trees that were hot spot for creepy stories and mysteries. The older teachers would say that those trees were homes of the dwarves and other older folks would say that those were the haven of the “di Ingon nato”. Next to the old trees was an unfinished and unused Comfort Room. It was an eyesore, I would say! It stood at the left side of the backyard, creating an aura of spookiness. My inquisitiveness about the matter was profound that I asked the older folks around the area, since none of the teachers knew why it was built there and why it was unused. But then instead of telling us logical answers, they opted to tell us horror stories about that C.R. A long time ago, there was this girl who committed suicide in that C.R. They added, at night they hear sobs from that girl and faint voices calling “Mama! Mama”.  We didn’t believe such things because the principal, who happened to be our friend and was very fond of us, told us that it was not used because it was made of poor materials and its distance from the classroom was a labor for the teachers.
“But please girls! Do not go near to that building because there might snakes out there. You don’t want to get bitten by these vile creatures, do you?” The Principal warned us in a dignifying way.
“Yes Sir!” My sister and I answered in chorus while flashing our angelic smiles.
            It was a Monday in March when we set on a very spirited decision to go there.  All of the teachers were busy for the upcoming Graduation including our Mama Jinky. They were cutting letters, printing programs and busy buying ribbons and medals for the commencement exercise. With the limited time, works should be doubled. The Principal then called for an emergency meeting even if it is already 12:00 p.m. We were in the session hall already waiting for our Mama Jinky and listening to each teacher’s whines and complains about the urgency of the meeting that it cannot wait ‘till afternoon. I thought that teachers were self-sacrificing and God-like creatures who don’t complain about the pressures of their work but then that moment I realized that teachers are also humans, they complain about things that interrupt the cycle of their should be convenient existence and backbite people which is in contrary to what they teach.  I was already so hungry that my stomach sounded as if there were lions roaring in my intestines, screaming for food. My sister, on the other hand, was as usual always optimistic about almost everything, oblivious to the fact that it was already noon. I still didn’t get how she manages to stay enthusiastic when in fact she rarely eats her meals and she is as thin as a bamboo stick. After the long wait, our Mama Jinky finally arrived from her Math class.
            “Mama! When are we going home? It is already 12 p.m. and I am really really hungry” I complained.
            “This will not take long. Just wait for me in here and do not go home unless if I say so. Do not go anywhere just wait here and watch your sister.” She pleaded with all her affective strategies to win us and for us to behave like the Princesses of Denmark.
            She was about to enter the door when she turned her head again to me and said,
.           “Cielo, do not go anywhere. I know you! Please behave just for this time”
            I said “Yes, I promise! No fooling around this time. ”
            Then my Mother was swallowed by that dirty white door and left us with nothing to do. I tried to calm my horses and stayed to where am I seated but that itching curiosity that kept irritating my state of thinking convinced me to do something incredibly stupid. I jumped from my seat and started goofing around my sister. My sister really did not care so I have to aggravate her by calling her names.
            “ Hey Tikling”
            “What now?” My sister shouted back.
            “ You know! I was just wondering if we could check out the haunted C.R. in the backyard. It would be perfect since we are left with nothing to do except to wait and besides it is already 12pm and maybe we can see some ghost there”. I said.
            “Baboy Damo, You know that we promised that we will stay here?”My sister reasoned
            “Yes! But it won’t take long so Mama Jinky will not even know that we had gone snooping around the haunted C.R.” I tried to convince her.
            “Okey, then just a peep and we are out of there.” She finally gave in.
            We then marched to the narrow passageway to the backyard. Teachers cannot get through that passageway because it was much tapered and it was not really a passageway. It was just a vertical slit unintentionally created because the Grade 1 classroom and the office were not joined. The foul odour of urine greeted us as we strode to the concourse. We covered our noses because the smell was like a whiff of ammonia acid permeating in the air and infiltrating to our nostrils. We walked faster than ever and yes! We reached the end. We jumped in complete exuberance because we have survived. We then darted off to the pilapil of the rice field because at the end of it was our final destination. We spread our arms to balance ourselves to keep us from falling to the mushy mud like that we usually saw on T.V. where an artist would spread his/her arms and walked to the wire. There were only two people there, me and my sister. The quietude of the surroundings was creating an eerie feeling that kept me looking around. I don’t know if it was just a product of my  imagination or a factual realization that there were eyes staring at us, watching our every step and among those trees were creatures we don’t see but can see us. My sister who was ahead of me was oblivious to my worries and self-war, stopped at the dirty old door and looked back at me. I then hurriedly run towards her and I stand next to her. We both released a heavy air when we placed our hands to the door and pushed it gently. As we opened the door widely, the cold air brushed my skin and cheeks, the rotting smell of wood was the first odour I recognized and the first sight that greeted us was the cob-webbed cubicle with the dirty white-stained bowl. There were vandals in the wall like The Crips and The Bloods. Most of them were gangsters’ names and signs. There was nothing unusual there, no skulls, no rope and no bloodstains just an old abandoned and never used comfort room. My sister who was clearly disappointed got out ahead first then I followed while looking at every detail of the room. When I got out, I tried to look for my sister because she just slipped away from my sight.
“Michilleeee! Michilleeeee! Let’s go back to the office now” I called out.
“Ate! Come over here” she shouted back.
            I followed her voice and walked among those tall Ipil- Ipil. I was very nervous because I am heading to the cliff. I found her standing near to the edge of the cliff and I hurriedly grabbed her hand.
            “You should not stand near the cliff, you might fall” I reprimanded.
            She pulled her hands from my clasping hands and I let it go.
            “I know! But you have to check this out!”
            We had never set foot to the cliff side of the school but we were told about this stone that served as the haven of the sirens and mermaids. My sister was captivated about this stone being the home of these magical and mythical creatures that she really never paid attention to what I said.
            “Hoy tikling, we have to go now. Mama Jinky will be so worried if she found out that we were gone” I warned her again.
            Finally she heeded to what I said and started to move. I turned my back and started walking but then I heard my sister shouted-
“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
            I looked back, hurriedly ran towards her, dropped on my knees and looked down. She was there clinging unto the roots. Tears were streaming in her cheeks and I don’t know what to do. She was shouting “Ate! Ate!” while she tightened her grip unto the roots. I didn’t say a word but tears were pouring, I don’t know where my voice was and I don’t know what to say. Instead of comforting her, I left her without a word because in my mind there was only one person to turn to at times like this, my mother. I ran like a mad woman and rushed towards the Session Hall. Other kids who saw me crying followed me dead curious to what happened to me and what news will I bring. Fortunately, my Mama Jinky was already waiting outside the session Hall worried and when she saw me in tears, she already sensed that something was wrong.
            “Mama! Mama!” I called out.
            “What happened?” she asked.
            I opened my mouth but instead of words, heavy sobs came out. I opened my mouth again but instead of a voice, tears were raging. That was one of the moments that I want to let her know but all I could do was to show her how I felt. She shook my shoulders and asked the same question. Still, I can’t talk. I am still in the state of being lost at words. I can see her worried face turned to very alarmed but with me can’t talk she became very anxious. She slapped me and slapped me and slapped me. That was the first time that she slapped me and I can’t forget that moment of silence. She was cursing and slapping me at the same time but I could not comprehend a thing to what she was saying. It was as if everything was in mute and all I can do was looked her in the eye wishing her to stop.  The other kids were surrounding us; others were smiling and exchanging whispers. Clearly they are enjoying the circus of drama which added the pressure on me.
            “Michelle on the cliff” I finally blurted.
            My Mom then let go of me and ran quickly to the backyard. The other kids also did the same, they all rushed to the cliff leaving me paralyzed. They were bumping at me as if I am invisible and I was watching them like a child watching a procession with a fast forward version. I felt a sudden pain in my butt it was then I realized that Mrs. Garcia the Grade 2 teacher pinched me and she walked passed over me. The pinched was nothing compared to the red traces of my mother’s hand in my cheeks. But that pinched was enough to bring me back to reality that I still have a sister hanging in a root.

            When I arrived there the show was over because the children were now retreating from their steps and started making a fuss about what happened. I rolled my eyes and searched for my Mother and there I saw her approaching, carrying my poor scared sister. I was relieved and waited for them but my Mother walked passed at me, oblivious to my presence or maybe just ignoring me. I was staring at them my Mother cuddling my sister and my sister hugging my Mother while walking. I followed them like a puppy but for a minute I stopped and looked back then continued walking.  

Friday, 10 April 2015

Mary Cielo Padillo
20 years old
Single and exotically beautiful

                This is my first blog entry and I want to write something about myself, my interests and what will be the scope or genre of this blog. Honestly, I am new to this one. I am also a bit hesitant in writing one for fear to be ridiculed about how uninteresting, boring and how dope is my blog but I realized that I have to try because in the end of the day it is better to fail in doing something than regretting on something that I have never done.  So, here I am typing the words that were long suppressed because of my coward decisions.


 Prometheus’ Fire
                I believe that this is the beginning of a journey that will somehow gradually expose me to different views, experiences and places. Like the fire which Prometheus brought to the Earth even if it caused him to taste the wrath of Zeus, this blog is about beginnings, about humble stories, about life in different scope and about exposing real life issues. As I ventured on uncharted waters I hope that you will be with me and walk with me till the end.
                 Just like how Prometheus bravely brought the fire to mankind  which symbolizes the beginning of knowledge, hope and light. I want this blog to illumine, to inspire and to be  beam that lights the minds of my reader.
The Muses of Mt. Olympus
 The Muses were the Greek goddesses of inspiration, science and the arts. They are personifications of knowledge and art, some of the arts of the Muses included Music, Science, Geography, Mathematics, Art, and Drama.         

                This blog will talk about all the aspects of human life. It could be about Literature, Books, Art, Drama, Fashion, Love and News. I will make it to point that I will embody the aspirations of the Muses of Mt. Olympus in serving my readers not just about entertainment but also with a pint of Athena’s spirit and presence.  Though, my knowledge about those stuffs is not deeply rooted but I can assure you that I will not base my narrations on theories but on a handful of experiences and discoveries. 

Cicero on the Loose
                I want to be your Cicerone in this un-Icarian venture and also like Cicero the God of Persuasion and Public Speaking, I am a public speaker. I like almost anything that involves opening my mouth and speaking to a crowd and dressing up. I enjoy being in the spotlight and seeing ears go flapping just to hear the next word that comes out from my mouth. My first love is debate, my flings are giving lectures and giving speeches but HOSTING is my lover and my lawful husband.
                To be a host is something that I dreamt to become but never expected to expand like this. I started from hosting in different school activities to being invited to any kind of event (except for funerals). So probably, I will include in here my hosting job experiences, the kind of outfit I will wear, the shade of make-up I will paint on my face and the preparations that I will make before the day.

Lighting of the Torch
               In Olympics, they officially start the game by lighting a torch and in here I will start this by saying WELCOME  AND DROP BY :-)