The Dementors attacking

I was having double thoughts before bathing myself at half past two in the afternoon whether to sit and listen while Father Tria, the chair person of The Philosophy Dept. in Ateneo de Naga delivers things he reckons right to say, or just to slump onto the comfy seat in the living room while I press my nose closely to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban and sieze from time by time indulging deliciously home made potato chips from the enormous bowl that is tremendously fragile.

Out of nowhere, I felt the need to attend to the former choice so as to save myself from the scolding of my Professor (anonymous) while doing some scowling against the feeble body of mine, left without choice but to try my bestest not to explode acting like a better man than his apparently intelligent professor.

While the talk was in progress, all I did was to nod as a sign of my approval and affirmation whenever the Priest darts is sight towards me as though seeking for a scripted and practiced affirmation from a sixteen-year, old turning seventeen in the 11th of September 2008, boy. Nevertheless, I survived by consoling myself that I did this for a purpose--something big awaits for me in the time ahead.

After some time, the open forum came. Many students and professors from different walks of life bombarded Mr. Tria, the priest, questions that nearly knocked me off my seat and made me busy watching my nose positioned inverted for I was afraid blood would leak down at any moment of time.

The people who darted questions in the direction of the priest seemed to me as though dementors getting near Harry Potter that make Mr. Potter lost for words, a truth that seems happening to the priest. Nevertheless, the noble priest had managed to escape the dementors using his Patronus that is to say he found ways to overcome the problem he faced.

Pangangampanya!

It's time to show the world what we've got!





please do vote for Mayon VOLCANO as one of the new seven wonders of the world!





Mayon Volcano is second to none in beauty!

Visit www.n7w.com and get your votes counted. support as well other grandeur that we have, chocolate hills, subterranean river, and the Tubattaha reef--all found in the Philippines.

Une Prière française.

Le Dieu le Plus cher,

Amour et Père puissant. Vos Enfants se mettent à genoux et saluent leurs Dieu devant vous. Dieu me donne la force youre pour continuer à se battre, votre souffle pour continuer à vivre et votre amour pour continuer à aimer mes frères et soeurs comme vous faites.

Je vous aime Dieu.
Amen.

Ouch!

Paano kasi yang anak mong si Patrick, ang ugali pang mayaman.Grabe makareklamo sa buhay, antaas mangarap, hindi naman marunong magtiis. Ngayon, grabe pa makaasta.

Yan ang text message na finorward saakin ng mom ko. na galing sa pinsan ko!

I never knew that this cousin of mine was stabbing me at the back...The moment I recieved this message, I felt awfully bad. It was when I was in an Internet Cafè. the rush of my emotions made me bury my face into my hanky. I felt suddenly that tears were glinting my eyes.

Lesson learned ...

"There are persons who show good treatment to us, whom we thought kind enough, but once we turn back, out of our knowledge, they point accusations and say negative things against our back"

An inebriated instant star!

Dinner time was over so I decided to take a walk along the subdivision under the gleaming stars and glistening moon.

A scenario caught my attention.
A drunk man stood still in a spot just beside the power post.
He held a sharp metal object that is usually used for cutting towering grown grass--Scythe, I suppose.
Out of nowhere, he shouted words same sort of those that Harry speaks in Parselmouth.
Sooner, perhaps 10 meters away, people flock around this man who went eagerly hitting the ground and the post.
So, I squeezed my way through the chattering crowd and asked them what was going on.
A middle old aged woman told me that the man who made a scene, demanded a few words with his brother-in-law, who is a sergeant.
The man threatened us that he would get anybody off his head if the sergeant would not come.

Minutes later, the baranggay tanods came with their wooden batuta and spoke to the man while observing distances enough to spare themselves from being headless patrolmen. The drunk man refused to listen and still went demanding.

A man riding on a big bike stopped and advanced to the drunk man causing the latter to raise his hand that held the grass-cutter. It was the sergeant. The people watching the scene got nervous and some of them let out squeals, high pitched enough that they almost caused my eardrums to break.

While the people were getting anxious, I was enjoying the thrills and surprises of the commotion.

The sergeant grabbed a gun from his side and pointed it to drunk man's direction and muttered some dialogs.

Surprisingly, the drunk man put down the sharp thing he held right away and threw his arms around the sergeant's middle and hugged him tightly.

And they lived happily ever after.