Psyche-

She. She is the pronoun that is everything before I met my mesdammes in my primary, elementary, secondary and tertiary school. I got probably my first spank from her and the last of inaudible praise for good and very good marks in school. She was the firm voice who keeps telling me to study hard more on the arithmetic opposite my favorite subjects. She whose hands brought to me the book of Henny Penny. She who was thrown to far-flung school because of her chosen profession. She who walked on rough and muddy trailways. She who untirelessly innovated means of transpiring knowledge to the youth.   She is the teacher of generations ahead and before me. She is just like your every teacher. Let’s say a prayer for the likes of her. Hail to all teachers!

    Sunday, September 12, 2012 Different but similar There is this distinct person in my life. We’ve kept a relationship that is no ordinary but to some this story may be boring. Her name Cara is coined from the Spanish term that means face. It is the only name she wanted to be called but she forgives those who keep calling her Carmilie, her birth name. We spent our lives almost together. We graduated from the same elementary school. But we had to part for a while when she attended a science high school six hours ride away from home. But distance didn’t hinder whatever we had. It was fortunate since Mother used to asked me to accompany her during card giving. It was for us to be in fickle mode and only to be sad when it was time to receive her card with failing grade. Then Cara left school and transferred to the trade school downtown. When I got to college, she came along four years later. We lived in one room in a dormitory. At times

        In my mind are words starting to form statements I would not like to be spoken too soon. Adjustments to personalities, environment and all that was just new to me left to be dealt with for a new workplace seemed to overwhelm me. Nostalgic of the same feeling when I was just hired some place some months back, I was that thank-you-filled somebody being fetched from a workplace by the SUV and being driven by a gracious employee. Then things gone not so good that I had to go back to square one. Now, again with the slack-jawed me, I am thankful of things that are falling to place. My new post has these apparatuses I have not touched even when I was a student vet. With an inkling about all these machines, I would like to believe that I am pushing loosely the buttons to that of no-fuss performance. Surrounded with vivacious workmates, I easily got disclosed with each of them.      I am thankful, really, really am, for the chance of working this

*Senior's Month on!!! Having run out of new composition... Here we go with an old yellowing page... Mr. and Mrs William B. Marrero on their Golden Anniversary. Looking forward doing their Diamond... Sunday, January 08, 2012 Granddad’s girl I’m one crazy, sentimental kind of person. And among the few of my sweetest sentiments were my growing years with my grandparents. I was seven years old then when I lived with them. Ah! That was more than a decade ago, 16 years to be exact. Once when I asked my mother why the arrangement was like that, she said it was an impulse that I chose to move to my grand sires’ place. Between the two oldies, it is my granddad I describe as lenient. Too lenient, actually. He is so different from my grandmom who’s a bit strict and melancholic. One time, I came home from my neighboring classmate’s house as darkness was pitting in. It was typical of a playful child to bond with other children with the same toys and stories. I use