A Day in the Life...

On 2002, a mystical experience had occured to me while I was in Manila. That was some three years ago. In this book, I have recounted in earnest the magical ride that I was into and then some other meanderings about faith, life and humanity in general. Click here for the complete online version of THE NIGHT OF ANGELS. For a very limited period only.

Freedom has gained its own masters and its own set of philosophers-to be defined and classified in so many words and terms-- and yet it remains that men kill and die for their own kind of freedom as against another man’s freedom for the freedom of one may not be the freedom of another. For at times the freedom of one man means the detainment of another. A slab is a piece of slab . You run your hands through it and you would know very well that it is a piece of slab. You would feel the contour, the roughness or the smoothness of the surfaces. And then you smell it and to be certain it would have the same wooden aroma of any piece of slab you have ever hold. But freedom to us is freedom without the sense of sight or the sense of touch. Freedom is never always freedom when it is not susceptible to a very particular sense or meaning, but always floating in the air. You would never smell it nor touch it. You would not be able to see it also. It is invisible to the eye and what is invisible...

Finally, the result for this year's much-anticipated Philippine Blog Awards is now out and true to form, the winners truly deserve the honors as well as those who were selected as finalists and semi-finalists. Actually, every blogger out there is already a winner for just having participated in this very veritable endeavor. The people behind the Philippine Blog Awards are worthy of our gratitude for having started this wonderful undertaking for surely, they inspire us all bloggers to always do our best, and even if we do not try as hard, still the Awards is a form of recognition that all of us bloggers should be thankful for. So, I thank the Philippine Blog Awards for the honor of just being included in this yearly contest. By the way, T he Daily Prophet gained a 2nd Runner-up finish in the Best Informative Blog Category. My other site Where Now Is The Citizen On Mars? was also a finalist in the said awards. I also like to congratulate my friend Teacher Sol for almost be...

There was once a particular childhood experience that I have already narrated in my autobiography “A Prophet’s Life” which I intend now to present once more, in a different light perhaps, or in a more elaborate manner. In the past nights, I have been somewhat grasping for topics to jot into this online diary, but inspiration had become farthest to me and I was at a lost on what to inscribe into paper or to be particular, into my computer screen. This must be known to many as a writer’s block, a kind of informal malady of the mind where nothing seems to come out from the writer’s thought mechanism. I have not believed before in any of the crap they say about a writer’s mind being blocked. But now, I have felt its cruel hands on me. Grasping and feeling like I was in the dark, like into a room without a door and nothing seem to appear except walls and walls of emptiness. Finally now, I have found the door and an idea comes to me blinking like a light bulb. Death is darkness all over as o...

OGDEN KRONENGEKEL --- such is the name of the main protagonists inside my dream, other than myself of course. Have you had yourself a vivid dream? In my childhood days, I had numerous dreams of these sorts, the kind that are so crystalline in clarity that some of them I could still recall until now. I usually dream about angels in the past, flying with them into tree-lined outfields, and falling off from cliffs if I lose some footings while in the act of flying. Every time I fall from the air in those dreams, as I lose control of my body movements, I also fall from my beds that the falling sensation felt so real and everyone in the house could hear me scream . My dream about Ms. Kronengekel (yes, she was a woman sporting jet-black hair falling down towards her knees) about three nights ago wasn’t purely about angels although some parts of it were about them cherubim. Unlike my other dreams, this one involves a narrator who whispers to me some facts that I need to know as the story...