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audentes fortuna juvat: Pacquiao and the 14 Love Stories
ABOUT ME:
chalkleight
chalkleight
Los Banos, Laguna, Philippines
usually first impression s'kin mataray,masungit and the likes..uhm,sad to say totoo un kc hndi ako msyadong sociable unless there's something in one person that i really like..sbi ng mga close s'kin good listener dw ako but i think im better in ignoring what they are saying pero when i feel n kylangn mo tlga ng mkikinig sau game ako lalo n kung nkakarelate ako s topic mo..'yoko s mga self-proclaimed..those who say a lot 'bout themselves (who cares 'bout them,anyway?) hehehe..trip ko mga humorous kc moody ako..another thing 'bout me is ung temper ko..uhm,it's always at the edge, u knw what i mean..if u nid 2 knw more basahin mo mga testi s'kin kc im sure they say a lot of things 'bout me.. :]
https://www.blogger.com/profile/15896205344583116855
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Pacquiao and the 14 Love Stories
Pacquiao and the 14 Love Stories
Sunday. No annoying alarm to snooze. It was just a few minutes before noon. I was awakened by the noise coming from the television set on my landlady’s receiving area (11-meter walk from my bed). I was immediately reminded that it was the Dream Match – Pacquiao vs. de la Hoya.
I’m not a fan of boxing but I used to watch Pacquiao’s fights back home – not because I’m interested on those punches and all. I just watched them to be able to make outrageous comments about the fight and about the people I watched them with. I would usually remind my brothers about breathing regularly..oh, now I miss home.
The idea of getting out and seeing what the place would look like while Pacquiao was stopping the world came in to me. Surely the television sets in all the establishments and residential areas would be showing the match. Most of the passersby would stop for a while with the boxing fans – and they would all stare at the television with the “ohhs!” in their eyes. There would be lesser automobiles on the road..and there would be some who would just hug themselves inside their jackets, continue their walks against the cold wind, and questioningly look but completely uninterested with whatever the other people were extremely excited about.
And that boring predictability outside disgusted me. Since I already know what I would be seeing, what’s the point of going out?
I got back to bed and continued reading the compilation of 14 Love Stories (UP Jubilee Student Edition) which shows the transition of how Filipino love stories were written since Paz Marques Benitez’ boring Dead Stars (wee! high school English!) up to Noelle de Jesus’ (no comment yet) In Her Country.
On the third love story, I overheard that Pacquiao won the match. I mumbled “Okay..” and continued reading while the Filipino champ was giving his speech. I observed that he has improved his English. He was speaking the foreign language faster and I wasn’t able to catch a single word except for “Thank you..”!! Or was it just a hangover from his adrenaline rush??
When the television was turned off, the landlady started playing a series of Christmas songs. She also started singing her lungs out, and soon her husband joined her..and they both dreamt of a white Christmas..
Yes, it’s only 18 days to go..and it’s Christmas Day again. Then what? After that day, people will just start waiting for the next Christmas..and so on.
I don’t know what’s with this e-thing which keeps me from getting excited over Christmas. Oh, how I wish I was that child again who believed that she has seen Santa Claus riding his sleigh pulled by the running reindeers crossing over the bridge!
Such a loser, isn’t she??
