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thesillybox
01 February 2014 @ 01:53 pm
HAPPY 2014! It's one of those lazy Saturday afternoons were in I'm trying to be productive with my work yet I end up NOT being productive at all. It happens often. More often than I’m comfortable with, actually. Anyway, it’s a brand new year and though I’m a month late from the mandatory “New Year! New Resolutions!” post, I’m still going to go and say THIS IS GONNA BE A GREAT YEAR! Because beginnings are usually the best time to be very optimistic.


NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION Again, the only resolution I have this year is to get through it in one piece. But there are several in-betweens there too. I’ve resolved to finally take the time to go to gym (gasp!) and actually practice my driving for once (double gasp!) because I’ve come to the startling realization (not actually that startling) that I’m nearing graduation—and I am in desperate need of essential life skills. I have to say goodbye to passive living and get my life together. Regarding my academic life, I’m not going to swear anything. Nothing good ever happens if I swear anything. Same goes for my love life which is , thank god, still non-existent. Hahaha I guess finding love STILL isn’t on the top of my priority list. Some things never change I guess. For my extra-curricular activities, I guess the only resolution I can think of is to always strike a balance between it and studies. Sigh. College life.


I GUESS THAT’S IT Hmm… I’d have put a lot more like my resolve to live a healthier life (goodbye fast food, I will always love you…) or my resolve to end my “Series fevers”, but I wouldn’t want to brag about a resolve I can’t keep. So I’m just going to get back to that when I actually get it done. For now, I’ll just have to get back to you on that.

 
 
thesillybox
25 September 2013 @ 09:55 pm
SO, TWO WEEK AGO, MY MOM UNDERWENT A MINOR SURGERY IN THE HOSPITAL. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious and the operation turned out to be successful. But due to standard procedure, she was advised by the doctors to have complete bed rest for the next week just to make sure there are no more “bleedings” for lack of a better medical term. Obviously, when the doctor threatens you with the possibility of hemorrhages and internal bleeding, you’ve got to follow his orders so my mom, despite having a full-time and demanding day job, did as she was told. Or so I thought.

Despite being bedridden, my mom still communicated with her colleagues through emails, phone calls and their occasional visits to the house mostly out of genuine concern (they brought us bananas!) but also because they needed to get some work done. Despite being confined to a bed and supposedly “rest time”, my mom was still as active as any workaholic on a sick leave. Which, by the way, leads me to believe that my mom is perhaps the benchmark for hardcore commitment in almost all aspects of being a person.
Why? Because before she was operated on, she balanced a day-job that ran from 9 in the morning to 5 30 in the afternoon. And even then, she usually worked overtime until 7 or so. I would know, my classes end around that time and we go home together. She travels back and forth from Bacolod, Iloilo and Manila for meetings on a regular basis. She conducts seminars and holds events too. Apart from her career, she also manages the finances at home and raising me since my dad is in the army and isn’t usually home. She also takes care of the finances of some of our relatives abroad and is the one managing the allowance distribution of their constituents. She also does the grocery, pays the home bills and buys all my stuff and requirements. All the while, she manages to stay perky and happy at the end of the day despite her hectic schedule. When I asked her what her secret to the balancing act was, she simply replied that there was no secret. She told me that in breeding success in people, we are only as good as to how deeply we commit ourselves to something.

Commitment is indeed very important. No one who ever achieved anything significant in this world did so without passion flowing through their veins and determination alive in their souls. Be it in our relationships with friends, family, lovers and colleagues, nothing has ever garnered fruit without our own commitment to improving it.

In any avenue of our lives, commitment is important, much in the sense that it provides the backbone for our perspective of the world and how we deal with problems, stress and temptation. Exhibit A: If one is committed in both heart and mind to their wife/husband, then they won’t shy away from their loved one even if faced with disagreements, storms and hot prostitutes.
Exhibit B: joining organizations. Take me; I’m a part of the school publication and I honestly believe I wouldn’t still be sticking to it despite the countless headaches, stress and sleepless nights that come financially unrewarded if I didn’t feel drawn and committed to it. Though I have been tempted to simply lax off and quit, the drive and commitment urges me to stay in the place that I know I can be of most use.

Next, commitment is the shackle that binds one to an obligation. Exhibit A: work and studies. It is based on one’s commitment to making it in college with a good transcript of records that pushes them to persevere and excel in the academics. It is our obligation as a student to go to school. It is in our commitment to be excellent.

For the longest time, man has sought ought different paths in life and have so many dreams that overflow in depth and desire. But the truth is that almost isn’t enough in the real world. Dreaming simply isn’t enough to get you everything you desire. You make your future. You make it happen. Prayer comes somewhere in there, but in the long run, you can’t rely everything on pure divine intervention. You have to go out there and make your life yourself. 
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thesillybox
12 September 2013 @ 10:59 pm
WHEN PEOPLE FIRST FIND OUT I’M AN ONLY CHILD, THEY ALWAYS ASK THIS SAME QUESTION: “AREN’T YOU LONELY?” To which I don’t really know how to answer most of the time. This is because the concept behind being lonely is totally different from the concept behind being alone. As an only child, being alone is something I’m accustomed to and totally okay with. In fact, I even enjoy the silence and peacefulness that being alone brings. On the other hand, what does being lonely mean? Loneliness is basically feeling like there’s something essentially missing in your life, particularly in the form of some sort of human interaction. Now, I used to think I had everything I could possibly need in my life. But thinking about it more critically, if I had a chance to hire a few people to fill in the relational vacancies of my life, I would hire the following:

First on the list: A Competent Colleague

  • One who shares in my penchant for achieving perfectionism in the quickest way possible.

  • One who won’t slack off in group projects.

  • One I can turn to immediately if a teacher ever says “Okay class, pair up!”

  • One who is professional in his/her work/craft.

Really, I could ascend into heaven with joy if I ever found this lucky gem of a person under the sea!
When I thought about what I lacked in my work/school life, my thoughts always lingered in this aspect. I’ve always been a hard worker and it’s usually my fault for having too-high expectations that people can never usually meet, but I have always dreamed of having a competent colleague who won’t give me a headache at the end of the sem. This is particularly applicable now since I’m undergoing a lot of paper works, projects and other stressful duties piling up in both my courses (Operations Mgmt and Mass Communication) I could really use a competent colleague.

Second on the list: A big brother/sister.

  • One who tries to piss me off by teasing me just to alleviate my grumpy mood.

  • One who speaks the language of my people, a.k.a Martian lingo or maybe even Vulcan.

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  • One who shares my genetic flaw of being way too obsessed with cartoons and actually tolerates it. Maybe even feeds it.

  • One who guides me through tough times and is always there whenever I need a shoulder to lean on.

  • One who knows me far better than anyone and would always take my side, even if I’m wrong.

  • One I can turn to for solid advice and good counseling.

  • One I can consider a friend I get to keep at home and will never leave me.

Here’s a little fun fact about me: People who know me can affirm that I would absolutely hate to have a younger sibling. However, I would actually love to have an older one, which is totally contradicting. When I thought about what I lacked in my relationship with my friends, I realized, I don’t really feel anything missing. However, I do miss out on the sibling-friend relationship I’ve noticed to be prominent in anyone who’s ever had the privilege of growing up with their brothers/sisters. A familial bond is on a totally different scale from the typical friendship and though I’d like to believe I’ve felt that way with my own set of friends, I know it isn’t essentially the same.

And the third on my list: A Significant Other
significant otter

A boyfriend, in other words. Now this is a funny topic. In the entire 19-going-20 years of my existence I’ve never really put any serious thought into getting myself into an intimate relationship with someone of the opposite, or even same, sex. I didn’t care. Still don’t. But technically, it is still encompassed in the parts of me I have still yet to find so for the record, at least I’m acknowledging that I am single, though totally reluctant to mingle.
But awkwardness aside, at some point in my life, I’ve actually envisioned myself with a boyfriend and on occasion, I’d wonder what my life would be like if I actually had one.

  • A person who knows me so well we finish each other’s sentences and jokes.

  • A person who makes me smile so effortlessly.

  • A person who makes me feel special and loved.

  • A person who won’t mind waiting until marriage for a first kiss.

  • A person who won’t suffocate me with his insecurities and demands.

  • A person who won’t mind my occasional bipolar tendencies, eccentricities, odd friends, weird brain and awkward personality. In fact, one who actually loves these qualities.

  • One who prefers butter on his bread and not jelly.

  • One who is kind, warm and patient.

  • The one person who knows there’s billions of other girls out there who look like supermodels with hot bodies and sexy legs but still chooses to stick to me, the awkward small town girl with nothing to show but an impressive personality.

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thesillybox
29 August 2013 @ 12:35 am
A long time ago, back in kinder days that smelled of stuffed toys, childhood and nostalgia, our idea of “friendship” simply revolved around our playmates and having fun. But in the course of growing up, we learn to keep preferences and we try to screen out the good playmates and the bad ones. I’m no different. I’m no saint nor martyr to say with confidence that I've kept all my friendships ever since I was a little girl. Some friendships had to die, some had to be severed, and some had sadly faded away into something unrecognizable. But that’s the way life is; you win some you lose some.

I guess that’s the sad reality of relationships; it’s so dynamic we’re never sure if how we feel today will be the same tomorrow. You never know who your real friends are until push comes to shove and problems and fights arise to test it. Those who remain by your side are the ones you ought to keep. But in my list of requirements for a friend, I’m not as strict. In fact, what I want in a friend is basically elementary.

Here it is:
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1. I don’t need a friend who’s the coolest in the school, the smartest in the class or the prettiest face in the sea of everybody else. And I could care less if you’re rich or poor or even the president of the country. To be my friend, you only need to be true to who you are because I hate hanging out with people who only pretend to be someone they aren’t or act as if they were queen of England. I’d like a friend who is down-to-earth, humble and real.


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2. I’d want a friend that lasts forever. In my life, I can say that I am fortunate to have some “immortal beings” (no they’re not vampires) present in my life and in my heart. Though it’s pretty cheesy, deep inside, I yearn for a friend I can grow up with, share firsts with, bad and good decisions with, make memories with and someday grow old with. Impossible? I think not.




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3. I want a friend that defies distance. Take my friend Prinny, for example (the girl in the picture above). She moved to Pontefract in the UK 3 years ago and but regardless of the miles apart, she still keeps in touch. And during the birthdays of any of our friends, she never fails to give a gift, be it through airmail or through a video greeting.





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4. I want a friend that loves me just the way I am. Even if I had the power to change myself I really wouldn't. I would like a friend who loves me regardless of my flaws, eccentricity and strange behaviors.




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5. I want a friend I can work harmoniously with. Be it in the form of duties in the publication or even getting through Accounting class, it's always good to have a friend who flows with the same wavelength.



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6. I want a friend I can consider family. In the case of the picture above, well, they really are my family;
my cousins: friends I get to keep for a lifetime.



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7. I want a friend with a whacked up sense of humor. Because, well, I have a whacked up sense of humor, myself.




8. And lastly, though not indefinitely, I would want a friend who shares in my weirdness.


A friend who understands my penchant for silly and ridiculous camera poses,


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can engage me in a deep conversation of intellectual nonsense,


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and goes through the same feeling of breathlessness
that comes with laughing so hard after a shared joke only we can understand.



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Because honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way.
 
 
thesillybox
04 August 2013 @ 09:46 am
A writing technique that does not allow the conjugations of “to be” such as be, am, is, are, was, were, been or being in the output; ladies and gentlemen, this is the language of E-prime.

It’s kind of a funny story, actually, how fate has always barred me from learning E-prime before. Because, to be honest, this isn't the first time I've heard of it. My friends from the higher years often talked about E-Prime since it was part of their class requirement for Sir Rene but since I was taking up business subjects back then, I couldn't really relate. Also, when The Spectrum hosted the Lasallian Schools Press Conference (LSPCon) over at Nature’s Village, Sir Rene gave a talk about E-prime there too. But sadly, around the same time, I was instructed to go fetch a speaker from the pier! Talk about bad timing. But as much as I've been putting off learning E-prime, I guess it has finally caught up with me.

So here it is.

click this to READ ON...Collapse )
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thesillybox
01 August 2013 @ 01:12 pm
When I was much younger, I admit that I've had fantasies of myself on top of a big podium with an audience of millions watching me claim my golden bust of achievement for perfect language development. But this was actually equivalent to having a star placed right beside my name in the blackboard for saying the sentence correctly.
If there’s anything I can be proud of, it is my mastery and command of the English language. Most of my life, I've been speaking in English to the point where I actually can’t pinpoint how it all started. But I do remember who helped me nurture it.

So, without much adieu, here’s my credit list:

MY MOM, GRACE. As cliche as it may sound, yes, my parents play the BIGGEST role in developing my language skills. My dad is an army man so he’s not usually around, so it was really my mom who took most of the credit for teaching me the basics. One important thing I can remember about my mom’s guidance was that she actually never encouraged me to read; I developed that hobby on my own. But it began when she introduced me to the library and bible stories that I started enjoying reading. She used to read to me all night, but when I got older, I would read aloud to her and she would correct me if I said something wrong. That was how I learned English. As for Tagalog, my mom sort of forced me to watch teleseryes with her and my grandmother so I could get the gist of how the language is pronounced. True enough, I think the bulk of my tagalog vocabulary is all thanks to Gulong ng Palad and Pangako Sa Yo.

MY COUSINS, TWIN AND YNNA. My partners in crime and then-fellow-anime enthusiasts. In childhood, we always conversed in English. Never mind that other people thought we were brought up in the States. We really did talk to each other in straight English and it was only when we got a lot older that we began mixing it up with Hiligaynon. To this day, we still speak in English to each other. Force of habit.

CARTOONS. My cousins and I spoke to each other in English and cartoons are the main culprit. I had afternoon sessions for class back in prep and nursery. So before heading off to school, I would sit in front our small television screen and turn it to channel 19, which was Cartoon Network. There, I educated myself with the English language and actually, it is through listening to cartoon characters talk that I leaned my style of “conversational English.” Cartoons have also developed my wit and sense of humor, be it verbally or in written form. In addition to this, expressions I brought with me as I grew up stuck; like “Oh My Glob” or “Fudge” or “Aww Man!” These English expressions were inherited from old cartoons I used to watch.

MS. JANE. She was my English teacher who formally introduced me to proper diction, pausing between sentences and breathing techniques for public speaking. I was always shy and withdrawn, but she had chosen me to be the contestant for the NOPPSCEA declamation contest when I was in 6th grade, having been impressed with my impromptu presentation the year before. It was a terrifying experience but the training sessions I had with her for around a month every time after school was very memorable. She also taught me mouth exercises that can help me pronounce better. I think she triggered my strange talent of fitting my entire fist inside my mouth, too.

PHIL COLLINS. He is the composer and lyricist of most of the songs in the Disney movie, Tarzan. Now how did he teach me language, you ask? Well, I may not look like it, but I’m a big sucker for good words. Phil Collins’ lyrics were admirable, beautiful, and unparalleled for me. I usually hummed them when I was a kid and it was his lyrics that shaped my entire writing style that I have today, which is mostly soul and metaphorical words. The songs he made like Strangers Like Me and You’ll be in my Heart are 2 of my most beloved in the Tarzan soundtrack. These songs encouraged my critical thinking and interpretation skills. Thanks to him, since childhood, I've been a lover of beautiful words.

Without these people, I wouldn't be the prolific writer I am now.

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thesillybox
31 July 2013 @ 01:02 pm

Men are from Mars and Women are from Venus – I read this book around four years ago for a reaction paper in my English class in high school.  Basically, it discusses the quirks and differences between the two sexes and elaborates theories that can possibly bar proper communication between the two. I liked it for its logical and scholarly presentation. That, and the edition I read had really cute flippy-page doodles that were quite amusing.

Anyway, on to more serious things. Reading that book gave me new insights regarding the different sexes and to an extent, I really did consider that men really do come from another planet. I mean, what is with guys and asking for directions, anyway? For girls, asking for help is good because it helps get work done quickly and efficiently. But through readings and studies, it has been found out that men dislike asking for help, possibly believing that it is a form of weakness.
True enough, there are some gender differences in communication I agree with but for argument’s sake, there are also some I feel personally unattached to. My opinion is as follows:

BODY LANGUAGE. Study says that men desire space and tend to avoid physical contact with the same gender, feeling quite awkward about it, while women are the exact opposite and actually desire social interaction and are more physical with their affection. Though this is true for other women, I beg to differ. I’m not a very touchy person. I don’t exactly shower people with physical affection like hugs and kisses, or even simply gestures like holding people’s hands, shoulders and hair. I personally find it a bit awkward. But does that make me a boy? No, obviously.

CONVERSATION. It has been stated that men talk to assert their independence while women converse to negotiate closeness and intimacy. And this is particularly true. Women and men talk about the same number of words and converse just as much as the other, but the intentions and manner of delivery are far from similar. There’s a bar between us that separates this sort of culture between men and women and we can do little to change it.
In the long run, no matter the differences in how both sexes communicate, there’s the rule of give and take that govern the relationship between the two. Women may come from Venus and men from Mars, but the key element that enables them to live peacefully on Earth is mutual respect and the fact that each complements the other.

Though we are not all essentially the same, we fit together and complement each other. And that’s good enough.
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thesillybox
14 July 2013 @ 11:21 am
SOCIETY HAS LONG DEBATED MANY THINGS from deep philosophical conquests to shallow everyday happenstances, humanity has argued of everything with good sense, some without. But who are we to tell which is which?
SIDE A: THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR LISTENING WELL IS IN THE LISTENER


VS
SIDE B: THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR BEING CLEAR AND INTERESTING IS ON THE PERSON DOING MOST OF THE TALKING


IF IT WERE UP TO ME, I would choose the latter (Side B) Why? Though the responsibility for listening well technically rests on the receiving end of a conversation, the biggest factor that allows them to fully evaluate and understand the information handed over to them is if it makes sense in the first place! In college, we go through several courses and you would seriously be lying (or a really big kiss-up) if you said there was never a teacher who was messed up in the head when it came to giving instructions. Sometimes we interpret them wrongly, sometimes it just wasn’t presented as clearly as the teacher hoped. And the result? Low grades, miscommunication and low TBI scores.

This brings me to another point as to why I support the second side. One huge determinant of information-eating is a person’s general attention span. If one had my attentions span for example, which is at par with a squirrel’s in terms of fleeting concentration, then it’s going to be hard taking in a bunch of new information if it isn’t presented invigoratingly or interestingly. Because really, who listens to someone whose boring? Take again the example of being in college, or any kind of educational institute for that matter. Actually, take in your entire school life while you’re at it. Have you ever asked yourself why it’s so hard staying awake in a lecture class full of powerpoint slides you need to jot down though you’re eventually going to photocopy the notes anyway but so easy to get into a gossip network with your friends? When generally both require the same listening capacity? It’s because the topic of scandal is interesting as opposed to theories and dead people with theories. The same with lively speakers and hosts. Nobody really cares to listen to one who isn’t presentably bubbly on stage or one with a monotonous voice.


No one wants to listen to a “Squidward” who’s basically dull and an uninteresting marine cephalopod. People want to hear good stories, interesting stories, lively action-packed discussion that piques at their curiosities.

Allow me to say so, but I’m a pretty good listener. I can pick up dialogues from movies, conversations, and even remember plots and meaningful lines in speeches and books, if books can even talk. I’m keen on lyrics in songs as well (the singing part, not so much). And to say the least, it’s at least one forte I have when in school. But as much as I am this way, I still find it hard to listen properly if the deliverer is generally boring me to death.

Communication, be it linear, transactional or interactional, needs to be clear and interesting. You can listen all you want, take down all the notes you can hear, but if the message isn’t clear to begin with then you’ve just wasted your time.
 
 
thesillybox
04 July 2013 @ 09:28 pm

MEET VALERIA LUKYANOVA, the famous Ukranian human Barbie doll. Before you say anything, YES, she really does have Barbie’s insane physical proportions and YES, though the rest of her is already probably a composite of plastic, she is as real a person as you and me.

I thought I’d seen the last of her tantalizingly creepy eyes after wrapping up a feature article about “True Beauty” last year but I was obviously wrong. However, today, I’m not going to bore you with a philosophical discourse on what is beautiful and what isn’t. I’m not even going to yack on about my qualms and analyses of what society entails the standard for “perfection” is. For what it’s worth, I’m going to share a story I’ve always wanted to tell by starting off with this:

BEAUTY IS IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER. Yeah right. A wise crab from a Disney movie once said, “The human world is a mess.” To which I agree. After all, we spend half our lives trying to fit the categorical description of a beautiful person and the other half trying to prove to the world that looks don’t matter.


After viewing that Dove commercial for the first time, I realized that to say our idea of beauty being distorted is quite an understatement. Rather, it has been completely altered. The culprit is no other than mass media.

TV and Print ads, promotional videos and each and every gigantic billboard in every nook and cranny of a street all have one thing in common: Photoshop. If you asked me what effect media has on a person’s self-esteem, I’d tell you it has driven them to a point in life where they are willing to vector, retouch, edit and vandalize their own selves just to feel good about how they look. More so for women than for men.

I’m a woman; and though I’ve lived my life happily inside my warm extra layers of fur (aka fat), I know for certain how hard it is to condition yourself into believing that you really are “perfect” just the way you are.

Because, to be honest, women have it bad. Sir Rene, our professor, said that females have the better anatomical structure compared to men. And I don’t mean to be sexist, but it’s true. In a Playboy or FHM magazine, boys and girls alike stick around to see women with stellar bodies rather than men albeit for entirely different reasons. When I buy a magazine and read across fashion spreads, my eyes are usually glued on the girls, and I totally mean that in a bland, heterosexual way. Girls can appreciate girls too, you know.

Anyway, it’s entirely true. Girls have the lion’s share of burdens to bear when it comes to appearing attractive. In the age of adolescence, girls want boys to notice them, but that’ll never happen if they’re ugly, weird or fat. It takes courage to be at peace with who you are and respond to haters with a smile on your face. Whenever someone tells me “You’re so fat!” even in the half-meant joking kind, I’ve learned that the best way to respond is to offer a smile and say, loud and proud, a big and good natured, “Thank you!”

Not because you’re trying to prove it doesn't affect you, but because you know it’s true and you accept that. For what it’s worth, I’ve learned that beauty isn’t something you buy or earn. It’s something you feel right inside you that determines whether you love yourself or not.

In our MC102 class, we had a lesson regarding “Self Concept” and ultimately, the physical, material and social aspects of who we are lie in the quadrant located within ourselves. If we choose to be affected by what others think of us, leading us to believe we aren’t good enough, pretty enough or popular enough, then we should strive to change that.

I had an experience once, when I was in 6th grade. I had joined a dancing club (mostly out of peer pressure) and I, being a chubby little girl, was a stand-out amidst the sea of skinny youngsters. If I didn’t have a healthy self-esteem, the teases of the senior members would’ve ruined me. They almost did. But, somehow, I came to some odd realization at that point. They were so engrossed with my weight that they failed to comment on how bad I was at dancing the Asereje! So while the rest of my friends were called names for being too slow, stiff and unenergetic, I was spared the criticism. Instead, I was humored good naturedly for being really cute on stage.


Sometimes, the best thing you can do is stare at yourself in the mirror and take in what you see. Internalize and visualize. Is the vision a true reflection of your worth as a person or better? If not, then it’s time to get a new mirror.
 
 
thesillybox
29 June 2013 @ 06:56 am
MANY DREAM of becoming famous, rich or successful in the course of their lifetimes. Many dream of finding love, finding peace, settling down, and starting a family. Many dream of finding their niche in this world while others simply desire to find a place where they belong.

My dream is to become a unicorn.

I’m kidding, of course. My real dream is to someday see my name on the cover of a YA/Fantasy book with the subtitle New York Times Bestelling Author. But don’t think I dream of being published, specifically. I also dream of someday voicing a cartoon character and making a script that will be used for a Disney Pixar animated film. I don’t dream of being published, being famous or even being immortalized as a loony toon. But rather, I dream of making dreams into reality. I dream of transfiguring whatever spurt of imagination pops into my head into paper, film or audio. I want to make stories, characters and scenarios people all over the world could appreciate and learn from. That’s all.
But as great as it is to envision, reality is much crueler. The biggest vultures that bite at me and hinder me from going for my dream can be categorized accordingly.

FIRST, creativity and feelings of inadequacy. Without a doubt, I have a long way to go before even being considered to work for such a topnotch company. I’m from a small country with barely enough experience yet to make this dream a reality. If I want to overcome this vulture, I must go to school, and go to school well.

SECOND is in the form of values, family and friends. In order to achieve this dream, I’d have to go an extraordinary mile to get to work abroad. And even if that opportunity strikes, I know based on experience that I wont be able handle being away from my loved ones for so long.

AND FINALLY, my inhibitions towards discrimination also hinders me from taking the leap and making it happen. Sometimes you can’t help but say to yourself that if you are Asian and you enter a relatively Caucasian work place, at some point, you’re going to be viewed as an Outsider or at least differently among the rest. I don’t know how I’ll feel about being different in a sea of Americans. I don’t know if they will accept me for me or look down on me. And surely, feelings of uncertainty are the worst kind of fear.

But though things like these physically and mentally prevent me from achieving my dream now, doesn’t mean they’ll deter it forever. I know that if I want to reach this dream, I need to build up my portfolio, make myself credible and start showing the world just what I’m made of.

 
 
 
thesillybox
26 June 2013 @ 12:27 am
About this WHERE IS THE LOVE? contemplative essayCollapse )



DO YOU KNOW THE STORY OF THE BERLIN WALL? During the 2nd World War, it served as a massive barrier which separated Germany into Eastern and Western territories from 1961 to 1989. It was both the physical memento of a time of torn families and a divided nation as well as the symbolic boundary between the beliefs and visions of a democratic environment and the ways and means of Communism way back during the Cold War. With its dark past that holds sadness as opposed to the colorful graffiti depicted on its bodice, I’m pretty glad that the Berlin Wall was demolished a few years back. Demolished, though not completely, at least the history of hate, difference and separation has been given an assurance never to happen again.

Hm. You’d think people who read about it in the news or had seen the cover story on Reader’s Digest would be inspired to break down the walls within them as well. It’d be great if people just opened their eyes to the truth that no culture, no belief and no religion can set them at a higher pedestal than others or be the cause of ire towards their fellow men. But sadly, humans, when not ignorant, are like dogs: they only see things in black and white and refuse to acknowledge the existence of other colors that can mix and form into a spectrum of something much more beautiful. As a result, though Berlin has found togetherness once again, the rest of the world still remains in a conflict of interest regarding several aspects of concern. Prejudices, biases, issues, problems and protestations—in the end, they all boil down to Ethnocentrism which is the belief that one’s culture is superior compared to that of another culture’s.

Sure, there’s nothing wrong with being proud of the culture that exists within your community. Because, well, a dose of self-esteem is good for person. And also, being proud of where you came from, who you are and your cultural identity is a part of patriotism, isn’t it? Correct.

And sure, if you think about it, it’s funny at first. Seeing all the memes on the internet and hearing about “Blonde” jokes, Ginger jokes and even other Filipinos mess around with wrong pronunciations, Ethnocentrism can’t possibly be such a burden on society, now, right? Wrong.

Though seemingly humorous and harmless, the unspoken assumption s we make about other cultures, people and races can ultimately affect how we react or treat them. Without saying word, we look at blondes and immediately wonder if they are dumb or not. Hearing a person with an accent speak, we giggle, assuming that he/she is of poor class or poor upbringing.

Everyone is ethnocentric; every one of us all around the world assume things about other people’s ways, cultures and etc. The big question, therefore, is why?

It is because we lack the knowledge to understand the world in its totality. We don’t see the bigger picture of things and though with some exceptions, most others can’t see the unique beauty of other people and respect that. That’s probably why bullying and prejudices exist in the world. Also, wars and feuds.

People fear what they don’t understand. Moreover, people persecute those who are different. It’s proven, even in films and books. Superman was shunned because he had superhuman powers nobody else of his mundane classmates had. The Powerpuff girls were once castaways for being “bug-eyed freaks”. Kovu from Lion King II was initially distrusted by Simba for simply being “Scar’s heir.” And the list goes on.

Ethnocentrism is also, more often than not, an exploit used to begin conflict. Two sides with different beliefs: these are the perfect recipe for an all-out disaster waiting to happen. No fight ends with one party winning completely. Both sides lose many somethings along the way. Among that pile is a possibility of peace.
Is there a way to stop this? Is there a way to curtail our ill fate of being divided forever?

I think now would be an appropriate time to impart my much beloved dialogue from the Lion King II: Simba’s Pride that sparks a lot of good thoughts to ponder on. During the final battle, as Simba ordered Kiara, his daughter, to move away so he can deliver a blow to the Zira, Kiara tells him “A wise king once told me, ‘We are one.’ I never understood that before. But now I do.” She then beckons to the exiled Outsiders and then to her own pride. “Them. Us. Dad, look at them. They are us. What difference do you see?”

If words could awaken the soul, then mine would have been an open book by now.

Funny how an animated lion can be quoted as a source of inspiration for change, eh? But then again, what’s more whacked up: a lion that speaks the means for peace or foolish humanity who refuses to acknowledge it?
 
 
thesillybox
Note from me!Collapse )

The only thing constant in this world is change. So as long as days keep passing and time keeps ticking, human beings have no choice but to simply learn to adapt to the modifications brought about by a new era. Based on this fact alone, it makes sense that oldies can rarely identify themselves with the youth of today. This is because of the incredible generation gap between 21st century teenage pop culture and the late 20th century pop culture they know. But summarizing everything into general categories, the fashion sense, leisure activities and mode of communication are the main rifts that separate the teenagers born in the early 90’s from the present day adolescent.

FASHION
The first category deals with the differences in fashion. Fashion is a dynamic entity of society because it comes and goes depending on the popular fad. An article form Bookrags.com states that back then, most teenagers didn’t dress as revealing as they do now.  While most teenagers today have no problem revealing skin when choosing clothes to wear, back in the early 90’s, it gave others a provocative suggestion that the person had poor taste and lack of wholesomeness. Back then, women didn’t show off any stomach or any cleavage; men didn’t let their underwear stick out or their butts show when they wore jeans and basically everybody dressed properly which is in stark contradiction to the “less is best” mentality modern day teenagers have.

LEISURE ACTIVITIES
The next category deals with the differences in leisure activities. When one speaks of leisure, it is immediately linked with hang outs or places where teens stay and enjoy the company of friends. Teenagers in the early 90’s spent their night outs in disco bars, and danced under a sparkly ball, while singing to the beat of ABBA. On the other hand, teenagers now still go to bars for a night out with friends—but dancing is replaced with a series of jumping up and down, while the speakers blast a deafening medley of different songs that don’t make any sense.

MODE OF COMMUNICATION
Those born in the late 90's would also remember the dawn of the brick-like Nokia prototype, the 6110 (and it's famous descendant, the 3210). Now, it's all touch screen and fragile. But really, the things that sets the previous generation from the current one is that back in the day, texts were letters (handwritten) and physically being there was actually a prerequisite to being able to talk to someone. But since the dawn of technology, gadgets and internet, there are new and modern means to communicate with people without actually having to leave the confines of the room.