People don’t consistently follow the PUSH or PULL signs found in most establishments. Just a few moments ago I observed a man who did just so upon exiting a convenient store. I have admit that, from time to time, I am no exception to this majority. It’s a small failure in the part of humanity, and as I have mentioned earlier: it’s the small things that really get to us.
My guess is people think it doesn’t matter just because the get to enter or exit, anyway. The mentality of “It Works Anyway” that drives us to this habit of not minding. It’s true, right? Well at least I haven’t seen a glass door break for the reason that it was pushed or pulled incorrectly.
But in reality these small pushes and pulls in the wrong direction that snowball into the historical downfalls and tragedies.
(This is beginning to sound dramatic. But think about it. We only stop to consider on the occasion that something backfires on our faces.)
- P1: Sa next life ko pagdadasal ko na maging kapatid na kita. (Haha)
- P2: Friendzoned and Brozoned. Iba talaga ang appeal ko.
- P1: Ano ka ba, iba naman ako doon sa ibang girls mo 'no - di ako market. (Haha)
- P2: Sorry AB ka nga pala. (Haha) Ulalam lang ako. (Haha)
- Let's hope, that in the next life, I turn human at all. That should be a good start.
At the same time, he was afraid to see her. The cold disappointment and uncomfortable silence that might ensue made him shudder. His body felt like it was going to be torn in half. But he had to see her. This is what he had been wanting, what he had been hoping for with all his might for the last twenty years. No matter what disappointment might come of it, he knew he couldn’t just turn hiss back on it and run away.1Q84 - Book 3, Chapter 27 (Twenty years is a really long time but I feel you, bro.)
French artist Mademoiselle Maurice who creates stunning geometric figures on urban surfaces using rainbows of folded origami figures. via
![other-wordly:
pronunciation | \la dO-‘lUr eks-‘kEz\ (la doe-LURE ex-KEEZ) submitted by | etcetera [sainttiffany] submit words | heresorry | if I mangled the pronunciation; I tried my best](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4r7ilkRb51r6nm6ao1_500.png)
pronunciation | \la dO-‘lUr eks-‘kEz\ (la doe-LURE ex-KEEZ)
submitted by | etcetera [sainttiffany]
submit words | here
sorry | if I mangled the pronunciation; I tried my best
This video is a product of the mutual efforts of both Creative and Media Agencies of Cobra Energy Drink - the project is something close to me since I started the ball rolling for the promo component of the project.
The insight for the whole thing is that everyone has a story - and each one can be an inspiration to others in the country. With the cooperation of a radio partner, we set up deployment teams across ten areas to gather these stories. Everyday you will hear such a story in the different stations of our radio partner.
That’s ten different stories in a day for about twelve weeks. From the stories aired in a given week, ten (one from each area) of those will be featured in Cobra Energy Drink’s Facebook fan page, along with other online submission from the site’s fans. People will get to read, share, like and vote for these stories.
And of course there’s this thing about winning some prizes that I really don’t want to go over in this post.
What really matters to me, is that Cobra Energy Drink is giving people a voice right now.
I gave them a voice. (This, of course, is highly for debate because I turned over the project just before it actually launched. Indulge me a bit in this claim)
(While this video by EURO RSCG is not half-bad, I still wish that my good office got the the project.)
And there was this crooked smile upon your face when you tried to introduce me. How could you really? There are no right words for what I am exactly.
The only thing I fear about the weekend markets - avoiding people. Good thing the Chicken Shawarma was worth all the dodging.
(You really can single her out from across the park, though - why I still find her undeniably attractive, I can’t fathom.)
- Mom: Kaya wala kang girlfriend, eh. (Scrutinizes my rainy morning fashion - a light purple shirt, brown cotton pants, brown casual leather shoes, and army green long jacket. (Yes, I might have appeared like pale raw eggplant and leafy greens in a wooden bowl.)
- Son: Gets an umbrella, picks a charcoal cardigan in place of the army jacket. (Sad)
- Son: (What I really wanted to say.) My sense of fashion is the least to blame for the inactive nature of my social, dating and love life. I have underdeveloped skills, stunted by the horrid isolation you put me in due to your feeling of apprehension toward my condition which is diabetes. (As if I was made of glass or paper.)
- But that would have been out of character - I didn't want to be seen ungrateful for the years of (predominantly) comfortable imprisonment that I went through as a teenager.
